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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999045">Anew- A Songs of War Fanfiction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/infingirl/pseuds/infingirl'>infingirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Songs of War (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:08:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/infingirl/pseuds/infingirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Thalleous Sendaris discovers an orphaned child without a clan, he takes it upon himself to find him a home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Requiem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you want the experience of music with the chapter: check out the song “Raised From the Ashes” by Phil Rey.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When a hero falls, a threnody hums itself, calling for those who mourn to sing along. When a villain falls, ne’er does the requiem ring out the clearer.</p>
<p>	The air was kindled in a buzzing heat, a taste of fiery anger. An inferno chewed its way through the spruce, lighting up every blade of needle and dry grass in its reach. Arms of smoke outstretched towards the darkened heavens like a tendriled monster reaching for its prey, as if the stars could be touched.<br/>	A lone Ardoni sprinted across the desolate wilderness, sidestepping the growing flames. Rather than fleeing from the destruction, he was exhilarated by the intense blaze. Thalleous Sendaris had tread through far worse than this. From the deepest recesses of his mind, he hoped that this was finally a lead on the forgotten Voltaris. He had pursued a promising trail for over a fortnight and was eager for the thrill of a fight.<br/>	The Champion was abuzz, the familiar train of lighted energy warming him. His aging eyes scanned the area for any figures, wishing for a flicker of crimson across his vision.<br/>	The bodies were the first thing Thalleous saw. His face fell to a solemn scowl as he began to tread more lightly towards the inferno, slowly unsheathing the diamond greatsword from his back. He squinted to stop the flames from blinding his peripheral vision and began to count the corpses. One, two...<br/>	His breath hitched at the sight of a small child’s lifeless body sprawled on the ground. Another, an adolescent, lay close beside him, a hand outstretched towards the young Ardoni as if to shield him from his met fate. Thalleous refrained from staring at the spear wound that had ended the child. His eyes glowed brighter, teal-colored tears beginning to pool in them. Grief and hate mingled into a frothing brew of passion within the Sendaris’ heart.<br/>	These Voltaris… all they could do was take. Slaughter. Destroy. He stopped himself from needlessly slicing the air with his sword. No matter how much he could beg, death would not bow its head to bring them back.<br/>The small triumph was short-lived as his feet dug deeper into the soil. Slowly, he knelt beside the child’s body, reaching out with calloused fingers to close the young Ardoni’s wide, darkened eyes. His hand raised to his lips, his fist clenching and pressing to his mouth.<br/>Thalleous exhaled deeply, breathing out the frightful sight. He blinked, and his moist eyes fell back to their hardened luster. Now was not the time or place for this. He rose to his feet, albeit shakily. He could not let himself falter, not before the battle had even begun. Four fallen… and, he foresaw, more to be counted among the dead.<br/>The Ardoni’s ears perked at a sound caught up by the hot winds, just a touch to his right side. The Champion flicked his wrist and the sword came alive, a light blue energy lacing across the double-edged blade. He whirled around, weapon at the ready.<br/>Just as he had suspected, Voltaris. Armed and lethal. His eyes darted from frame to frame. One, two, three… and a fourth. A female, on her knees, in the midst of the three. But most noticeably, she was not Voltaris. Thalleous squinted through the orange light. Strange… was she…?<br/>Clearing his rising thoughts away, the Sendaris charged at the approaching group. Their voices began to reach his ears, the sounds of the crackling fire disappearing as he honed in on the conversation.<br/>“We know you’ve hidden something,” a young Voltaris sneered into the captured Ardoni’s face. The prisoner did not answer, her face turned towards the ground. He stooped low and grabbed a fistful of long white hair, yanking her to his level. Snow-white tears smarted in the Ardoni’s eyes, but her glare remained constant. With gritted teeth, she remained silent.<br/>The Voltaris scoffed, discarding her with little mercy. The captured Ardoni fell back to a defeated position. As Thalleous came closer to the group, he noticed that one of her hands was being enveloped by a green shroud of corporeal Supporium aura. The other hand’s fingers were stretched out in a stiff wave, a flickering Protisium mimicking the shape of a semicircle. Apart from the sources at her palms, however, Thalleous saw no sign of the Songs’ effects. It was almost as if her Songs were nonexistent, at least in their vicinity…<br/>It was clear to the Sendaris that the female was tiring rapidly. Despite the lack of movement, her forehead was beading with sweat, and her hands shook. Thalleous wondered how long she had been maintaining those Songs’ powers.<br/>Somehow, the Voltaris had still not spotted him. Thalleous flung himself to the ground, concealed from view by a boulder. He fought the urge to groan at himself for the reckless behavior. He had to remember he wasn’t as spry as he used to be. His breathing evened, and he could hear the conversation once again as he peeked out from behind the rock.<br/>“She’s a waste of time, Cidiean,” the third Voltaris barked. “Make it quick so we can get back to the others.”<br/>The first Voltaris—Cidiean—pointed his menacing handaxe at the other. “So, you want to be the one to go back and tell Leon that we failed to retrieve his prize, eh, Desimus?”<br/>The other looked away, clearly biting his tongue to avoid getting into further trouble.<br/>Then, like a shaft of light piercing a forgotten room of blackness, the white Ardoni spoke. Her lips quivered with every syllable, but her voice was clear and soft, and Thalleous felt a twinge of melancholy at the pristine sound.<br/>“I will not divulge anything for you, murderers. I owe you nothing,” she spat. The Ardoni’s bright eyes were broken, but their shattered fragments were met with a furious loathing, melting like diamonds in an extreme heat.<br/>Thalleous watched pensively as the prisoner stared relentlessly into her captors’ faces, a vast contrast against her crumpled expression.<br/>Cidiean’s fists clenched harder into the handle of his weapons, pointing his handaxes at the prisoner. “You think you’ve won?” he hissed. He moved towards her, the blade inching closer to her face. Thalleous stiffened ever so slightly. “You’re nobody, a forgotten blasphemer who is too cowardly to accept the truth that no clan will accept you.” Cidiean scoffed. “You’re too pathetic to even pass as an Ardoni.”<br/>The tone of the Voltaris’ voice grew softer, but no less poisonous. Thalleous leaned in closer to hear what he said next. “You don’t fool me for a moment, witch. Even if I kill you where you lie, we will find it. If you tell me now where you’ve taken it, I might let you join your family quicker.”<br/>The Champion shifted his weight. But as he did so, a dried branch suddenly snapped from beneath his heel. The heads of the four Ardoni opposite him whipped in his direction. Thalleous flung himself back out of sight, mentally rebuking himself for being so careless.<br/>“Get it together, Cidiean,” the second Voltaris barked, a hand resting on the guarded hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it at any sign of threat. “Someone is here.”<br/>“Probably just some worthless rodent, Kleidis,” Cidiean waved off, but his knuckles grew paler from his grip tightening on the handles of his handaxes. The one named Desimus removed a notched katana from a scabbard on his back, a burst of red aura beginning to sprout at his fingertips.<br/>	Thalleous scanned the surroundings, his eyes locking on a clearing just behind the three Voltaris. He sat, waiting for the opportune moment, scarcely breathing, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his greatsword. The blue flames of the enchantment rippled hungrily across the worn blade, a reflection of the adrenaline coursing through the Champion’s blood. He evened his breathing, closed his eyes, and suddenly, in a flash of bright light, he had vanished.<br/>	The enemy Ardoni soon found themselves fighting against an unrelenting reckoning. Desimus heard the crack of the Song first, whirling around as the elder Sendaris materialized before him, his sword thrusting at the Voltaris’ midsection. Desimus blocked it with his katana, the sounds of the serrated edge grinding against the diamond, rattling their teeth. Thalleous relented and swung the sword for a side strike, but the Voltaris blocked that as well.<br/>	In an instant, the Champion had swung around to Desimus’ back once again, delivering a kick to the back of his shins. The Voltaris dropped, his hands outstretched to the ground to catch himself, however, in doing so, leaving his back vulnerable. Thalleous raised the sword, about to deliver a blow, when he was suddenly rammed from his left side. The Champion turned. A flash of metal came barreling towards him, and Thalleous parried the blow, twisting himself out of the hold and freeing the space around him once again.<br/>	The one who had attacked him, Kleidis, caught a brief glimpse at the retreating Sendaris’ face. His azure eyes burned with a ferocity that outmatched any enemy he had seen before. The younger Voltaris thrust his sword out in a series of efforts to stab the Sendaris, but every move he made was blocked with a warrior’s efficiency. Kleidis grit his teeth as he swung his blade, attempting to slash downwards at his opponent.<br/>	With an action as fast as lightning, Thalleous powered his Song once again, disappearing in a flash of golden brilliance and leaving a ringing in Kleidis’ ears. The Voltaris almost stumbled into the growing flames, his sword slashing at nothing but air. He barely had time to gather his sense of direction before the Champion had reached him once again, this time from Kleidis’ right. The blade clipped the Voltaris’ shoulder just before striking the opposing sword, and he gasped in shock and pain from the fresh wound. Thalleous twisted his weapon up and outward, and the Voltaris’ blade was wrenched from his hands, landing in the dirt nearby.<br/>	The Sendaris showed no hesitation despite the hands of the Voltaris flying up to protect himself from the coming death. However, an electric thunder split the air, and Thalleous ducked just before a reddened fist of energy could connect with his jaw. He turned into the approaching Voltaris, slicing upwards. The blade met its target and Desimus stumbled, instinctively bringing his free hand to the slash.<br/>	“Stop!” The growling voice was like a drumbeat in a haze of cackling flames. Without changing his readied position, Thalleous turned his head towards the one who had called out. The Voltaris named Cidiean now stood before him, the nameless female in his clutches, a sword pressing into her side.<br/>	“I’d give up these antics, Sendaris,” Cidiean leered, his sickening glare barely visible beneath the captive’s light hair. “Unless you want another innocent life to be lost.”<br/>	Thalleous swallowed and watched the hostage Ardoni closely. While her face was contorted in an anguish that exceeded the physical, she did not seem to be fully conscious of what was happening around her. The Songs she had been wielding before still flicked around her hands, although fluctuating slightly. Once again, the effects of the powers were not present amongst them. What was she using the Songs for?<br/>“If she dies,” the Champion said, his voice without falter. He looked Cidiean deep into the eye, challenging him. “...know that I will show you no mercy.”<br/>	The Voltaris tilted his head back slightly, his grip on the prisoner not relenting. His foreboding expression spilled out as a sinister contemplation. There was an agonizing silence. And then, a menacing smile curled on his lips. “I’m counting on it.”<br/>	Without a word, the sword plunged into the defenseless Ardoni’s back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Unmatched</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For a musical experience while reading, I highly suggest “Sunder” by Really Slow Motion. I’ve listened to it nonstop when thinking about/writing this chapter, and I feel it fits the mood and pacing of this chapter extremely well.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tragedy is a simple thing: it strikes, it torments, it breaks. It betrays the emotions, unmatched in cunning.</p>
<p>	The attack was unexpected, just as it was meant to be.<br/>	The colors swirled and blurred together in a frothing cauldron of heightened senses. The cold shimmer of the stars overhead reminded her of just how small she was. How careless those stars now seemed, even after the many hours she had spent admiring and lifting them up higher upon their guarded thrones of endless, heartened canopy. But they would not offer their light for her tonight. The arms of the opaque darkness were even now threatening to depose the heavenly bodies.<br/>	Mitera clutched her burden tighter, her fingers weaving shakily across the thin fabric, rubbing circles into the precious frame. No sound. Good. All that was left for her to do was pray that the child would not make a noise. Far be it from her to expect that of herself.<br/>The Ardoni’s bright eyes jolted at every motion, her large ears keenly distinguishing friend from foe about her. Her lips were chapped from the torrid air and her lungs pleaded for respite. She devoted all of her remaining strength to ensure she was not smothering the baby as she held him closer to her bosom. It would not save him, but she would not let him inhale the toxic smoke.<br/>	Stumbling, reeling, she inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, pushing her body to its limits. Nowhere, nowhere to go. Merciless wilderness surrounded her from all forward sides. No path allowed for escape from the ruins she was running from. She clenched her jaw harder. Nowhere for her to run.<br/>	Through the flames, Mitera made out the sound of a bowstring twanging. Her quick sidestep delivered her from instant death as an arrow rushed past her head. Her breathing intensified, markings shining brighter in a revival of adrenaline. The tears that had idly rested in her eyes were now streaming down unhindered. The terrifying notion of being caught kept her alive. She felt like a beast of burden that had been spurred to the dregs of its strength, her lungs collapsing, her chest heaving. No rest. Always, always running.<br/>In a mad dash of desperation, she fell onto her side into tall grass. The child did not wake, though he shifted in her arms. She hissed as her side burned from skidding against the soil, but she could not stop. She crawled further into the foliage, careful not to crush the child. The grass hid her sufficiently against the approaching attackers.<br/>	Mitera gazed through the blades of grass at the figures who had followed her. In all her long life, she had never seen such potent violence resting in their red hues. Only in the stories told by the elders had she learned of the Voltaris. And, yet, they were here, at her doorstep. Had they always been here? Had they been concealed, only now revealing themselves at this moment? What did they want?<br/>She bit her lip to restrain the wails that echoed in her head as her eyes lingered too long at the blood stained on their sharpened weapons. It was their blood, her family’s blood. And their blood was her blood. The cry in her heart for a fill of the emptiness did not diminish. She knew that there would only be bliss in the joining together of their souls in eternal rest.<br/>	Mitera waited until the traitorous Ardoni passed her by, until they were out of sight, the bloody glow bowing to the darkness. She stifled the waves of nausea that roiled in her stomach and blurred her vision. There had to be sanctuary somewhere in this vast desolation. She lifted herself upright, her brow pressed to the ground. She pleaded with the land, imploring into its soil for a haven.<br/>	She lay there for an eternity, ears perked high for an answer. The unforgiving response was the unceasing roars of the ever-flames that were quickly transforming into their pyre.<br/>It was the child that spoke first. His pitiful cries pierced her heart deeper than any blade. Her senses heightened, she lifted her face from the dirt and curled into herself closer so that she was pressing her lips against the child’s ear. “No, no… shh…” Her voice was steady and soft despite the turmoil within. “Not here, please... not here,” she begged. The infant only replied with sharper wails.<br/>Such terrible cries. It was not even a dying gasp, a fleeting breath. The child’s lungs were strong, waging against the smoke-choked stratosphere. A multitude of echoing sobs joined his voice in a cacophonic choir, pounding in her head like a beating drum. She recognized each one. And they were all gone, their voices doused by the turmoil. They had names, faces. She had held them all, once, her children.<br/>If only her inner cries could match the infant’s outbursts. Her lips quivered violently. “I know,” she finally conceded. “I know.” Mitera could not bring herself to stand any longer. Where was the will to continue?<br/>She heard shouts and struggled to her feet once again. Mitera tried to comfort the child and took stride yet another time, nearly collapsing from exhaustion.<br/>Her heart was drained of hope. No one was left to help her. She was alone. She glanced down at the child and envied him. With a stroke of fortune, he would not remember this night. Sweet, blissful ignorance... if such a thing existed. The same could not be said for her.<br/>A cheer of discovery broke through the air, not too far behind. Her lips were unable to stop a moan of despair from escaping. She had been spotted again. When would this striving cease?<br/>Mitera spotted a rock eddy and sprinted towards it with unspoken endurance. She began to weave through the spires, hoping against hope that the maze would be too small for them to follow her into. She almost fainted in relief at the sight of a dark cave and headed straight for it. Every inch of her body seemed to be burning in the flames. She only wished to be free of the pain.<br/>Noticing once again that the child was still crying, she frantically shushed him in an attempt to conceal them. The darkness of the shelter did not serve well, as their markings glowed brightly in contrast. A damp and icy draft wafted from the innermost part of the cave, a welcome distraction from the murderous inferno behind them. Mitera pressed her back into a stalagmite pillar, sighing heavily. It would offer sufficient cover. For how long, however, she did not know.<br/>No. She couldn’t afford to think about it now. She bounced the child gently in an attempt to quiet his pleas. Her head bowed towards him, shifting the blanket to uncover his small face. His perfect, beautiful face. A face she had looked upon these last several months so, so fondly. A face that she saw their future in.<br/>The thought struck her that soon he would be the only one left of them. Her heart collapsed inside her chest. “Oh, my son,” she whispered, her spirit knocked off all its foundations. “I’m sorry… I’m so, so…” She began to choke on the half-formed syllables, what was left of her once-bold spirit crushed beneath the heel of despair. “...sorry.” She kissed his forehead tenderly, tracing every detail of his wonderful face with her teary eyes.<br/>She had been planning this as soon as she had raised his sleeping form out of his cradle just mere minutes ago. She had the power to keep their assailants at bay for as long as would be needed. Even now, she could feel the Songs rising up from within her, manifesting in a pinching sensation growing in her chest.<br/>Shouts from outside echoed into the small cave, surrounding the two Ardoni. Frightened, the child began to cry again. There were chuckles of triumph far away, followed shortly by amassing footsteps reverberating around their sanctuary. Mitera pressed her back farther into the pillar, knowing full well that moving the slightest bit would end her in an instant. She bounced the child, hoping against hope that he would quiet. Her eyes began to twinkle green as she willed the Song’s energy to hide them.<br/>Glittering bubbles of Supporium floated around them, whirling faster and faster in a tornado of green light until it faded. Within moments, there was only a shimmering force surrounding her and her son.<br/>“Thought I heard something over this way!” a dark voice called out, and Mitera almost jumped in fright. It had come from right behind the stone. She held her breath, rubbing the child’s back from within the blanket that swaddled him. It seemed to help, for now he only made quiet whimpers.<br/>A male Ardoni stepped out into her field of vision, and she tensed, focusing as much as she could on maintaining the steady flow of Supporium. The Ardoni was of a vermilion hue, his bright eyes piercing, his markings jagged and cruel. The intense red burned into her, and she flinched when his eyes locked with hers.<br/>Except, they weren’t. He was looking at her, but not seeing her. She dared not breathe, her jaw clenched, closing her eyes to remain concentrated on the Song. If she lost control for one second, it would mean the end for both of them.<br/>The silhouette before her moved closer and her body quaked in fear. Her eyes closed tighter as she pressed her son closer, her lips proclaiming soundless pleas.<br/>“Well?” a sharp voice called out from the cave’s entrance. “Find anything, Cidiean?”<br/>With a shake of his head, the Voltaris looked away from them and began to walk back the way he had come. “Could’ve sworn I heard crying,” he mumbled. His voice lessened as he vanished from her sight.<br/>Mitera’s body sagged and rematerialized from the immense relief. She felt exhausted, and her head began to spin. Dropping to her knees, she kissed the whimpering child’s face.<br/>Now was the time. She could not tarry any longer.<br/>The Ardoni’s heart cracked, ready to shatter beneath a crushing weight, and she felt nauseous. How could she live without the only one she had left? All she wanted was to stay by his side, holding him… until the end of time.<br/>But it is not to be, she berated herself, and the tears sprang up again. One landed on the child’s cheek, and his tiny lips puckered slightly in response. Sighing heavily, Mitera tenderly laid a finger on his face and wiped the drop away.<br/>A still voice spoke to her. She did not know if it was her own or a completely separate being. Lay him down, it said. Take up your weapons. Protect him.<br/>Her son had finally stopped fussing, too exhausted to continue. Mitera let out a shaky breath and held him in her arms... one last time. She could have stayed there for eternity. But, almost against her will, she wrapped his thin blanket tighter around him and set him on the stone floor.<br/>Slowly, every fiber of her being aching, the Ardoni pushed herself to her feet and raised her arms, caressing the air with outstretched fingers as the Songs reactivated inside her, the blues and greens mingling in a haze of sea-colored beauty.<br/>The air began to distort, a shimmering force surrounding the infant in a kaleidoscope bubble, starting from the outside and circling its way inwards from opposite directions. Like a swirling whirlpool of beryl energy, the Songs called out their salutations and sang for one purpose.<br/>“Remember us.” Her pale eyes focused on his face one last time, a frame forever locked in her heart. “Please…” The fractals closed the circle and the blue dissipated into nothingness. Her child was concealed and protected. No one could harm him, so long as his mother’s Songs held true.<br/>She stared forward, steeling herself for the death to come. Her hands still glistening with energy, she ran out of the sanctuary into the blaze again. With immense effort, she thrust the Protisium into the air, a luminescent beacon launched upward to attract the hungry wolves.<br/>Her heart pounding in her ears, Mitera ran as if the Nether itself were after her. The smoke-filled air burned her lungs and her legs shook, but still she ran.<br/>Looking back once, the Ardoni saw their lights and cried out, drawing more attention to herself. It was what she had to do. It was what a mother would always do.<br/>A third Voltaris jumped out from behind a burning tree and she retreated, the momentum of the stop sending her skidding against the grass. She tried to wrench herself free as he gripped her arms, restraining her fast.<br/>The male wrestled her to her knees, and her joints jolted painfully under the pressure. The cold, sharp metal of a dagger pressed against her throat, and she froze, closing her eyes in defeat, waiting for the end.<br/>“Wait.” The strike of the monotone command blunted her sense of reality, and a moment passed before she realized that they had not killed her yet. The dagger was removed, and she began to breathe again, only realizing now that she had been holding it in. Slowly, she opened her eyes.<br/>The Voltaris that had spoken was the same one from the cave earlier. He tilted his head in mock curiosity. “She could prove useful to us.”<br/>He came toward her and lowered to her level. His lips curled in a devilish grin, and a shudder traveled down her spine. His voice was level and direct. “The artifact… where is it?”<br/>She did not reply, her mind still holding her son in that cave forever. She made sure to focus only on the flow of the Songs, her fingers shaking from the strain.<br/>“If you won’t talk…” the Voltaris started, gripping her chin roughly. She shifted her eyes away from his murderous gaze, refusing to look him in the eye. “... we have ways of loosening your lips.” With a simple gesture, Mitera was hauled to her feet and thrust forward to an unknown fate.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Crazy story about how I found Mitera’s name: I was using Google Translate to find some Greek roots to base her name off of, I typed in “mother” and μητέρα, “mitera” immediately came up. I was so pleased with the word that I didn’t bother to change it, and I think it fits her character very well.<br/>As for Mitera’s Songs, if it wasn’t clear enough in the story itself, she had one Protisium and one Supporium: I call them Protifractal and Supporeflect. The Protisium is a simple shield encasing a certain area the wielder wants to target, and the Supporium shields the wielder from sight, basically making them invisible to others. Mitera uses these simultaneously to create a shield of invisibility around Senn to protect him.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For music, the last minute of Sunder (linked in the last chapter) was originally my go-to, but here’s a separate song that I think fits the mood as well: “Slowly We Fell into Slumber and I Held You Until the End of Time” by Ursine Vulpine.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Do not forget the ones who are lost, those who cannot see the light because they live in the darkness. Reach for them, hold them, love them.</p>
<p>He did not fully comprehend what had happened. All he could understand was that, in a defining instant, Thalleous had cut down the two Voltaris that had surrounded him, his vision blurred by rage and remorse. Their corpses had been mutilated by his blade and he grit his teeth in resigned acceptance. Like the flames about him, he had been unleashed, any trace of guilt devoid in his eyes.<br/>
Cidiean leapt towards him and Thalleous spun out of the way before the Voltaris could land a hit on him. The clashes of the blades rang in their ears. Thalleous landed a kick to his torso and sent him flying and thudding against the earth. Cidiean pushed himself back to his feet before the Champion had a chance to run him through. The Voltaris twirled his handaxes before rushing at him again.<br/>
A flurry of unexpected strikes in the Sendaris’ direction pushed Thalleous back towards the fire, one foot after the other. Thinking fast, he caught Cidiean’s axes on his sword, twisting the weapon out of his way and rolling to the side, avoiding the licking flames. However, another strike directed at him sank in, the axe in Cidiean’s non-dominant hand clipping the Sendaris’ shoulder. Thalleous hissed at the pain but could tell from experience that the wound was not severe.<br/>
The Voltaris charged at him again, and Thalleous blocked the blow, grabbing Cidiean’s arm and pulling him down towards the ground. The Sendaris was now above him. In a flash, the older Ardoni’s fist smashed against the younger’s jaw, and he pulled his hand away, knuckles slick with blood. He went for another strike, but Cidiean grabbed his wrist, his fingernails digging into the flesh and leaving creases that broke the skin. The Voltaris twisted Thalleous’ wrist away from him, and the Sendaris gasped at the jerk of agony as his joints twisted. He raised the diamond blade in his other hand for a killing blow, but Cidiean dodged it, and the sword sunk into the ground beneath where his head had been.<br/>
A sudden kick to Thalleous’ chest sent him flying off of the Voltaris. Cidiean stood back up, wiping blood from his battered lip. Thalleous realized Cidiean had dropped one of his axes in the skirmish and dove for it, kicking at it. The handaxe flew through the air, landing in the flames nearby, slowly turning the iron blade red-hot, the handle smoldering. Thalleous then countered with a thrust at Cidiean’s side, but his opponent deflected it easily. The Champion grit his teeth and backed away, his gaze never leaving the Voltaris. Both attempted to catch their breath for a moment.<br/>
For a brief moment, Thalleous averted his gaze to the clanless female that lay on the grass mere feet away from him. Her chest heaved, gasping for air, and her fingers fruitlessly pulled the foliage from the soil at their rooted ends. She was in dreadful pain. He could see, almost feel, the hot anguish rising from her prostrate form.<br/>
A laugh came from his enemy’s direction. “You bring yourself all this way,” Cidiean started, glancing in her direction as well. “It is your very reason for existence, to prevent us from accomplishing crippling feats.” Thalleous stiffened. The Voltaris knew who he was after all. “But you do not arrive in time to save the innocent.” Cidiean let out a spiteful, almost giddy chuckle. “You will not stop us,” he sighed, fingering his remaining handaxe and running a joint over its edge, not even flinching as the sharp metal cut a shallow wound into him. “My own blade will ensure that.” Without a word to say in return, Thalleous lashed out.<br/>
The two Ardoni exchanged blow for blow, blood for blood, throat for throat. The battle waged on and both of them hoped for a break, a falter, something that would give an edge over the other. Both of their breaths became shallow and ragged, panting like wild dogs for water.<br/>
Soon, Thalleous found it inevitably pointless to try and beat down the Voltaris. Cidiean was quite evenly matched in skill to his own. There was only pent-up aggression in his adversary. And, perhaps Thalleous could use that to tilt the scales in his favor.<br/>
The Sendaris straightened, pulling his sword’s hilt farther up in his grip and pointing the tip away from the Voltaris in a condescending manner. His form became lax and seemingly detached, only infuriating Cidiean farther. With a cry, the Voltaris ran forward.<br/>
It was his first mistake. Thalleous took the opportunity to strike, spinning out of the way as the axe was lowered and turned the sword into his opponent’s body. The tip of the blade cut straight into Cidiean’s left side, and Thalleous jerked it out quickly for repossession of the weapon, striking out at the Voltaris’ legs. The blade met flesh again and blood began to trickle down Cidiean’s thighs.<br/>
Cidiean himself could not see the unexpected attack coming and gasped in shock, pressing his free hand to his side, his fingers sticking to the deep wound. He gritted his teeth and came back for another attack. He would not allow himself to fail.<br/>
This time, Thalleous dodged each of Cidiean’s blows with skillful precision, just enough to allow the Voltaris to tire out. This continued for a few more strikes until he found an opening again as the wounded Voltaris charged again. The diamond greatsword was thrust in one direction, slicing into Cidiean’s side, then back the way it had come, grazing Cidiean’s right cheek. The Voltaris was sure the Champion intended to cut him to ribbons.<br/>
Thalleous could not believe that his adversary came at him for a final blow. He was caught so off guard that the Voltaris’ bloody fist struck him in the jaw, rattling his teeth. He only responded by pushing the pain out of his mind and striking out a final time. He planted his knee on Cidiean’s chest and the Voltaris was thrown to the ground, his fingers finally loosening on the handaxe and inadvertently casting it aside.<br/>
His enemy jerked and spasmed from where he lay on the ground, his breaths hollow, markings flickering. “We will not hide any longer,” Cidiean seethed. Even as he lay there, his life force fading, the stench of the fresh blood wafting from the ground, flaring in his nostrils, the traitor would not give up.<br/>
Blood seeped between the Voltaris’ snarling teeth, and he cackled, wincing a moment later as he pressed a hand to the stab wound in his side. His reddened eyes glistened darkly in the haze. In the orange light, he resembled a demonic apparition.<br/>
“Even if you have slaughtered us all, what then? How long until you’ve drowned from the weight of your own wrongdoings?!” Unbeknownst to Thalleous, from behind Cidiean’s back, red energy began to pulse around the Voltaris’ clenched fingers, scorching the blades of grass beneath.<br/>
“You will never defeat us, Champion!” With a sudden burst of life, the Voltaris’ hands thrust forward, a crackling orb of Aggressium energy burning away the blood that had caked his hands. In a fury of fiery melody, the blast hurled towards the Sendaris.<br/>
With no time to react, Thalleous’ honed reflexes brought the greatsword to his front in an attempt to deflect the blast. The force of the Aggressium knocked his sword back, and the air dispelled from his lungs as his back struck the dirt path below, knocking the wind out of him. He groaned slightly as his forehead began to throb. Bringing his free hand up, he winced as pain shot through his skull. Pulling away, he saw his fingers covered in blood. His blood. His own sword had clipped his brow during the blast, a small gash above his right eye producing a steady flow of the gray liquid.<br/>
Biting his lip, stifling a curse at himself, Thalleous rolled to his side, raggedly calling the air back into his chest. The blood from his brow fell in small drops onto the ground. Adrenaline finally started to fade, and he began to feel the aches and burns of his battered body.<br/>
Suddenly, the Sendaris remembered. With a grunt, Thalleous pushed himself to his feet and stumbled towards the clanless female, the moistened soil beneath his feet squelching from the blood that pooled around her. He fell on his knees before her, his hands hovering over her prone form.<br/>
The Ardoni’s eyes were glazed and unfocused, darting from one side to another as the pain washed over her in boiling waves. Her colorless markings were faint and flickered continuously. He ventured a glance at the sword wound in her side, still bleeding profusely with every choking breath she inhaled. In an instant, it became clear to Thalleous that she would not survive. The thought made the Sendaris’ stomach churn, leaving him with a sick, aching emptiness. Forcing the image away, he stared intently into her eyes instead and attempted to give her a sympathetic smile.<br/>
An unpleasant sensation began to squeeze in the Sendaris’ chest. He knew this feeling all too well: guilt. Guilt for not coming sooner, guilt for being helpless to satisfy the jaws of tragedy, guilt for all the things he’d done to get where he was. Scenes began to play, active dramas that ended in different ways each time. It gnawed at his insides, nestled into dark corners that he could not reach. And he despised it.<br/>
“M—” the clanless Ardoni whispered through the blood sticking to the roof of her mouth. She groaned, as if a weight was pressing into her. Her markings were deathly dim. She fought to try again, though her voice was even weaker than before. Thalleous leaned in closer to hear the barely audible sounds.  “M—”<br/>
Thalleous’ face fell. “What is it?” he implored her, suddenly anxious to hear one more word. She tried to respond, but it only resulted in an anguished choke.<br/>
Without speaking this time, Thalleous reached beyond the flickering Protisium and squeezed her hand gently to let her know that he was still present. Unfortunately, he did not know if she was aware of his touch at this point. He blinked back blood from his wound and tears that had mingled together in his eyes, blurring his vision and stinging.<br/>
“Let me help you.” He did not fully understand this abrupt desire to cure her of the thought that was plaguing her. But it was all he could do, to offer her comfort in her final moments. “Please.”<br/>
And then, ever so slightly, the dying Ardoni turned her face upwards at the smoky sky. Her bloodied lips parted. The pain in her eyes gave way to a look of perplexion and, dared he wonder, relief? Thalleous quickly followed her gaze towards the heavens overhead, but nothing spectacular formed before him. No wonderful display of an eternal meaning. Only a gaping hole of lightless space.<br/>
As the Sendaris looked back at the clanless Ardoni, he let out a sharp exhale of shock. Her snow-white markings had become blacker than the night, and the light in her eyes had faded, the only remains of the person she was a shroud of peace in her darkened irises. Two cubes slowly formed by her side: Songs. The interior of the Protisium was a flaring sphere illuminated and punctured by softened fractals, the Supporium a whirlwind of emerald bubbles bouncing off of each other in their enclosed space as if fighting to break the limits.<br/>
Thalleous Sendaris was furious. He did not understand… he could not. How could he? As an Ardoni, there were few things that he was afraid of, but death was one. No matter what, death would always claim another helpless victim. He pushed his rage aside. He knew full well that it could only cause further damage.<br/>
“May you find peace, brave one.” He folded her hands on her chest reverently, reaching out to close her dulled eyes, a wave of grief washing over him. He kneeled there for a while, catching his breath, slowly trying to form a decision of what to do now.<br/>
Thalleous’ keen hearing picked up on something else. A brush of the wind, a lost cry scattered to undiscovered charters. He found it hard to distinguish it amidst the effervescent flames around him, but the wails resounded once again. Faint, but present.<br/>
His heart quickening, Thalleous stood up and began to walk away. He gritted his teeth at the grating yells of the Voltaris now behind him. He could feel those soulless eyes boring holes into his back. “Where do you think you’re going, eh? Come back and finish this, coward!”<br/>
Ignoring Cidiean’s hoarse shouts and curses completely, Thalleous followed the sounds, growing closer and closer to the source with each step. He grew more alert with every passing moment, treading through the spires of stone, grip tightening once again on the greatsword. From a distance, Thalleous spotted a cave and sped towards the opening. His sword flashed again, and he cautiously peered into the blackness.<br/>
From the back of the cave came a faint glow, tarnished by a vaguely-distinguishable object. Thalleous stepped forward slowly, his feet soundlessly shuffling across the smooth rock, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting. Upon further scrutiny, he realized that the glow was coming from underneath what appeared to be a cloth of sorts. What was even stranger was that the sharp cries were coming from beneath it.<br/>
Not sure of what to do, Thalleous scanned the cave for any forms, then replaced his sword on his back when he concluded there were none. He stepped down onto the cooler stone, advancing towards the strange shape.<br/>
He lowered to one knee and lifted a hand, pulling back the cloth that slid between his fingers like silk. The older Ardoni let out a swift and surprised exhale as he looked upon the figure before him.<br/>
A tiny Ardoni lay there, curled in a fetal position, white tears gathering in his scrunched eyes and blending with his markings. His miniature fists clutched the fabric for a hold, his sharp cries momentarily deafening the Sendaris.<br/>
Thalleous pulled his arm back, suddenly afraid he would hurt the poor thing. The warrior’s roughened hands could easily harm the child if he was not careful. Cautiously, he gathered the baby in his palms, wrapping him in the blanket once again upon feeling how cold he was, and placed him within the crook of his arm. The child instinctively curled into the Sendaris’ chest for warmth, his cries lowering to a quiet mewl in response to the physical contact.<br/>
“Whose child is this?” Thalleous heard himself wonder aloud, even as the realization registered in his mind. He looked down at receding blue shards that crunched beneath his knees, looked up at remains of green bubbles rising to the hidden ceiling of the cave before disappearing completely. Remnants of her Songs, now fading forever. Thalleous looked down at the child in his arms again and inspected his now-brighter markings more closely. They matched the female Ardoni’s colorless markings precisely. She had not been hiding an artifact; she had been protecting her child.<br/>
He had been too late. Too late to prevent the destruction, too late to protect the innocents massacred on this otherwise-mundane twilight, too late to save this child’s mother. It was all he could do now to ensure this child’s survival. He stared at the baby for a longer moment, noticing just how tiny, fragile he was, and for a precious moment, Thalleous Sendaris was… terrified.<br/>
Voices reached his ear, and the Champion reflexively clutched the child tighter, then instantly relinquished the firm hold when the young Ardoni whimpered. The voices had come from behind him, from outside of the cave. Had more Voltaris come?<br/>
He needed to get away, and quickly. He could not leave the child here to die, or worse yet, to be convinced to join their common enemy. Fitting the blanket more snugly around the child’s figure, Thalleous drew his weapon in his other hand and ran away from the cave, out of the chaos and into the fray.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, this is where the real story begins. I wanted to explore the actual events that occurred that caused the deaths of Senn’s family members before moving into what this story was really becoming. Mitera was such a wonderful character that I absolutely loved, but I felt her fate was necessary.<br/>I also wasn’t entirely happy with the premise I based this fanfiction off of: Mitera, and the whole of Senn’s family, for that matter, were clanless. I was never satisfied with this, since I really don’t see it as the way the canon probably will end up being, but for some reason I always imagined Mitera with matching white markings and I couldn’t get that visual out of my head. Also, I’ve found ways to make this make a little more sense going forward into the story, so I’m just gonna ride this out and hope it works out well. After all, it’s only a fanfiction.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sanity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter music for today: “Last Humans on Earth” by Dream Cave. I first found it in the Worlds Apart Full Soundtrack video (go check it out if you haven’t already), and I think it really fits. To me, it captures sadness, denial and reluctance all at once.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A sanity once lost is a sanity lost for eternity.</p>
<p>If there was one thing Tygren Voltaris was not, it was patient. After all, he had grown up on the fringes of an exiled clan without anyone proper to care for him or his only remaining family member. He only knew how to take, refusing to give back until what was rightfully his was restored to him.<br/>Now, as the Voltaris trod past the dead, flames and Ardoni alike, he wondered if he had nothing to be patient about after all. He and his group had only been backup, a last resort should the attack go ill in their favor.<br/>Despite his adult stature, he stamped his foot into the ground as if he were a child, digging his toes into the dust and pine needles. If they had just let him come along to stand by his side, this might have gone the way it was supposed to.<br/>“Tygren.” He snapped his head up as he heard his name being called out. And in an instant, his mind was scattered. He knew that voice… He couldn’t think, he couldn’t feel… he just…<br/>Was.<br/>He did not, could not understand why his legs numbly paced forwards, treading faster and faster to where the body was lying. A large pool of grey blood mixed with the soil to form a wetted chalky texture beneath his feet, and Tygren forced bile down his throat. He slowly knelt beside the flickering Ardoni, without a word taking the hand that reached blindly for him amidst the pain. The fingers squeezed his wrist roughly, and he tried not to wince at the intense pressure.<br/>The Voltaris around the two reacted to each their own as they recognized their Aide lying there. He was gasping for breath, choking on his own blood, heaving it out of his lungs. Cidiean’s face was contorted, a twisted visage of agony permanently engraved on his stony features. They knew the worst of all, however, was why the young Voltaris had come to the Aide’s assistance so quickly.<br/>Tygren’s markings matched precisely to Cidiean’s own: rigid, violent, an almost-tangible thirst for blood. Identical, kindred. Like a singular Ardoni, but by no means the same.<br/>Despite his want for control, Tygren was… shaking. He clenched his fists to deafen the nerves, looking into his brother’s eyes. Cidiean could see that his sibling was pleading for him to stay a bit longer, as long as he could, and the older flinched. As much as he wished to comfort the boy, he knew that there would be no way to recover fully from wounds such as these.<br/>Two Voltaris from behind Tygren came carrying a rickety stretcher, and the Aide foresaw that it was intended for him. Tygren made a move to try and transfer his brother onto the stretcher. White-hot agony rushed through Cidiean’s body, and he almost passed into the darkness that was lining his vision.<br/>His hand released Tygren’s and made its way to his chest, pushing him away. “Leave it,” Cidiean gasped, his eyes scrunched tight. He laid his head back against the ground, sighing heavily. “It’s… it is inevitable.”<br/>Tygren swallowed. He wanted to speak, to tell his brother that they could heal him, some way… somehow. But his tongue clung to the roof of his dry mouth, and he could not find his voice to form any words. Mute in both speech and emotion.<br/>Cidiean looked up and caught Tygren’s gaze, never letting it go. “End it, little brother. Do not… leave me to die a slow death.” He coughed up another mouthful of blood and groaned. “Better... to die honorably... than to live useless,” he almost whispered.<br/>Tygren froze. His entire body seemed numb, useless to him as he fully comprehended what his brother wanted. In the cold madness, he was swept back into days of old: his brother, always there to heal his hurts. His brother, always a shadow to cast more darkness inside of him. His brother… his brother who now asked him to… to spill his blood. To end his life.<br/>“What is done–” Cidiean’s body shivered from the sudden cold that turned his skin to frost. “… cannot be undone.” His finger pressed into Tygren’s chest. “You… must be the one to do it, Tygren.”<br/>The young Voltaris did not like where this conversation was heading. How could his own brother expect him to do this?<br/>“You cannot rest idly between two sides any longer, Tygren,” Cidiean continued, his voice steady despite his ragged breathing. “There will come a moment when you must decide…” More blood poured forth, his complexion a pale grey, and he gritted his teeth. “… whose voice you choose to follow.”<br/>Tygren stood stiff as a board. As a prompt, a Voltaris nearby gave up his weapon for the deed, relinquishing his hold to allow Tygren to take it. The youth did so, though he hardly registered it. He could only stare into the gleaming metal of the cruel pike. The weapon had been forged into a crude U-shape, one end unequal in length to the other. Its longer blade was curved, designed specifically to snake past ribs and pierce the victim’s heart with little effort. All he could ensure was that the killing would be swift. It would not make it any less difficult, however.<br/>“Eyes on the target, Tygren,” his brother softly reminded him. Tygren looked at him, never breaking his gaze with Cidiean’s eyes. He raised the pike. It hovered over the Aide, the tip of the blade pressing into his sternum. His fingers gripped the rough wood tighter, forcing splinters into his palms.<br/>There was such a lack of movement that some of the Voltaris around looked at each other, questions being called out with their eyes. The clan member who had handed over his weapon grew doubtful and made to help the younger Voltaris in the act. In a rush, Tygren quickly composed himself before the other could arrive to offer the support. With a swift exhale, he thrust the pike’s blade downwards.<br/>There was a terrible sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking. Tygren almost whimpered, pressing his forehead into the pike’s handle, his eyes squinting back the tears. The dying Voltaris’ liquid breaths abated, and the dimming vermilion light of his markings faded entirely. A flare of red coalesced by Cidiean’s side, the Song that Tygren recognized he had wielded for the past decade. His brother had only recently mastered its unpredictable nature, he remembered. A twinge of grief pulled on his heart, realizing that Cidiean would not return home from their mission. Not today… not for all of eternity.<br/>A hand rested on Tygren’s shoulder, causing him to jolt in surprise. He relaxed, exhaling when he saw it was only Leon. The elderly Voltaris leaned heavily on a gnarled stick, still limping from a wound he had received from the Great War that had long since scarred. Leon bent as he inspected the body, placing his hand on Cidiean’s forehead. After a moment, the elder gripped the pike and ripped it away, separating the blade from the flesh. The Aide’s lifeless blood spattered onto Tygren’s legs. Then, Leon spoke.<br/>“You have done well, Tygren,” his soft voice spoke in what was masked as a comforting tone. “One must not take the responsibility of bloodshed lightly.” Tygren refused to look at Leon as he continued to face his brother. “No less a kinslaying.”<br/>The elder straightened, his wrinkled hands resting atop his walking staff. “Thus is the path we must tread upon. Although he has departed, his spirit is undying, in you. Cidiean has wished to transfer his role as Aide to you, dear boy. You, the pride and joy of our clan.”<br/>In a motion faster than any there could comprehend, Tygren had unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Leon. His lips curled in a snarl, gleaming white teeth bared. The other clan members froze in anticipation, eyes wide, fixed on him, waiting for something, anything, to happen.<br/>After what felt like an eternity, Tygren let out a quivering exhale. With no apparent rush, he lowered the weapon from Leon’s throat and sheathed it at his side. “Do I befit the title you so hastily bestow upon me, Ky’Leon? I think not,” he growled, his voice low in pitch and volume. None of the Voltaris around them heard a trace of grief in him despite the youth’s entrapment in his shattered world. “Cidiean never welcomed his title as Aide, and therefore, neither will I.”<br/>Leon flustered, angry. Color rose in his cheeks and his hands gripped the staff tighter. “Do you still not understand our predicament, Tygren?” He leaned forward, not looking away. “We cannot leave our brothers once again without leadership, son—”<br/>“I am not your son,” Tygren spat through clenched teeth. Leon sighed and continued speaking more slowly now.<br/>“This is the will by which we must comply. Without you, the Voltaris will surely suffer.” The elder Voltaris’ voice softened. “This is not a matter of wishing for better circumstances. There are none at our disposal. This is a matter of life…” Leon’s eyes flicked over at Cidiean’s corpse, “… and death,” he finished. His tone was grave but no less soft.<br/>Tygren looked at his hands. He could already see the blood of his brother that covered them. His jaw ached as he clenched it harder and closed his eyes, his fingernails digging into his palms.<br/>Leon, with no small difficulty, kneeled before the young Voltaris to look up at him in the eye. “I see your hesitation, young one. But you have vanquished the only person that has stood in your way, Tygren. You are our only hope for a future among our people. You are ready.”<br/>Tygren looked away but gave a tiny nod, too grieved to speak. Leon stood erect, staring at each of his brothers and sisters present. “Voltaris,” he began in a louder voice, “bring forth your strength to lend to our warrior.”<br/>Unspoken words sparked in the air, scorching embers flying across the lit field before resting in the tresses of the wildgrass. Leon lifted his hands, a long rope of green energy materializing between his crooked fingers. The cord flowed, almost alive, like a stream of glistening emerald water. He took one end of the cord and looped it, taking his hand and pulling it through, then finishing it with a distinct knot. The cord now passed around Leon’s wrist, the lengths that touched his rough skin glowing bright white.<br/>Each of the clan members in their place took a step forward and raised their right hands, fists clenched. They formed a circle around the brothers and elder. Leon silently passed each of them, looping the Supporium rope around their wrists firmly. “Those who witness this crowning shall henceforth be bound to attest and defend the chosen one before you,” he spoke as he continued his task, moving from one, to the next, and the next, and the next.<br/>“I speak for the many, just as I speak for the one who has yet to return.” Each of the Voltaris in turn bowed their heads in remembrance of their true leader. Leon turned back to Tygren, who now bent on one knee in the center of the circle of Ardoni. The elder took the seemingly endless length of cord and limply took Cidiean’s stiff wrist, tying the cord around his as well. Tygren shuddered.<br/>Leon finally turned to him. With a jerking motion, the cord looped around Tygren’s forehead—a crown—and pressed into his temples. The end of the rope was wound around both of Tygren’s wrists tightly. Leon took a step back, turning to all the Voltaris present but speaking directly to their leader. “By his will I appoint you, Tygren Voltaris, as Aide to our cause, until the time arrives when you must lay the title aside, or death should enter to be welcomed by you first.”<br/>At that moment, the Supporium line glowed bright white, bringing uncomfortable heat to each of the Voltaris’ wrists. Then, the cord was severed in a million places by a nonexistent knife, the remaining threads falling from their wrists and onto the grass, fading into the earth until no trace remained. The Voltaris exhaled, almost relieved that the ritual had been completed. Some glanced down at their wrists to ensure no mark had been left behind by the cord. Leon’s lips curled into a content smile, and he pointed his staff at Tygren. “Rise, my lord. What is your first command?”<br/>Tygren did not answer for a length of time. He only cocked his head and stared at Cidiean, lying there, never to move, never to reawaken. He had hated his brother, yet loved him somehow at the same time. He was without life, yet still he could hear his voice. It was as bright as a shining sun, simultaneously scorching and soothing his already-burning skin.<br/>The only sounds for the next few moments were the dying of the flames. Tygren’s eyes at last shifted from Cidiean to the clanless female nearby. He frowned as he stood and examined the corpse. Her eyes were closed, a serene smile on her lips piercing him through and through, angering him. Her hands were placed reverently on her chest, concealing the wound in her midsection. Without a second glance… she could almost look asleep.<br/>Tygren’s scowl deepened at the implication. Someone had been here. A witness, deadly and swift. Whoever it was had long since disappeared. He could not let them escape.<br/>Swallowing the aggravating knot in his throat, he finally spoke. “Dispose of the bodies,” Tygren growled, almost inaudibly. He didn’t take his eyes off of the deceased as the other Voltaris looked to their new Aide. His face seemed made of stone. “We cannot let anyone learn what has transpired here,” he said. Only silence answered him. He twisted around, and his reddened vision turned to each of them in their turn.<br/>“Did you hear?” he questioned. They looked away fast and scattered across the soil, like fire ants rushing to do their leader’s bidding. Tygren returned to his brother’s body and stooped low. His hand traced Cidiean’s Song at its edges, the smooth surface unfamiliar to his roughened fingertips.<br/>He fingered the Aggressium, holding it in his palm. The piercing orb of crimson energy hummed all around him. For a moment, as he stared into it, the dark corners of his mind were whisked into the Song. The fires around him seemed to morph to the spinning walls of a bright sphere, and his head spun lightly. It was almost exhilarating. He could already feel the power flowing into him and through him, calling it forth and bending it to his will.<br/>His eyes, now reflecting the glowing light of the Song, fell to Cidiean one last time. “I will not fail you, brother,” he vowed to his fallen sibling. Then, touching his fingers to the hilt of his blade, Tygren descended from the plain and into the forest’s night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Escape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Music for the chapter: “Blood Moon- End of Silence” by David Chappell.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Take a step forward, take a step back. What do you escape from? Why do you escape it?</p>
<p>It was nearing the first traces of dawn. A gentle breeze swept through the trees, sending sparks and ash flying west, blurring senses and staring down predators. Night creatures fell silent at the unfamiliar blaze. Rain clouds had rolled in from the north, and small droplets of the cooling rainwater began to extinguish the tragedy. Was it better to hide the sight of death with a rejuvenating fall of rain? Nature always kept on despite disaster, seemingly uninterested in the ways of the world.<br/>Thalleous ran. He found no need to stop. His senses were heightened, focus trained, instincts honed. He did not wish to be seen, not after he had come this far. He had circled the expanse of the village, trying to stay inside the spruce treeline as much as possible to avoid being spotted. The last thing he needed were more Voltaris on his trail, especially now with a baby in his arms. He knew he could still fight with one hand just as well as two. However, he still could not help feeling uncomfortably vulnerable.<br/>Thalleous spotted an open area. In a moment’s notice, he took the favored opportunity. The familiar hum of his Mobilium floated around and through him, calling forth any remaining strength, and the Sendaris landed in the clearing.<br/>Suddenly, he heard a sound. He whipped his sword out from his back in a second, ready to fight whatever was coming at them. It wasn’t until his eyes had scanned the entire perimeter for the enemy when his mind caught up to his ears. The pleas were coming from the child.<br/>He looked down and felt a spark of panic when he saw that the infant’s skin had turned ashen. Sharp but weak cries came from his tiny lungs, and Thalleous rebuked himself as he realized what he had done. Of course. How could he have been so foolish? An Ardoni of his age wouldn’t have the ability to withstand such draining powers such as the Songs. He was far too young.<br/>He would have to rely on his feet for the rest. He felt terrible for not thinking about the very person he had tasked himself to care for. Even if it was not his own Song, the child would still be affected.<br/>Thalleous shook his head, looking down at the child. “What am I doing?” he mused aloud. It was aggravating, to not know what he was intending. What had he been thinking? Going off, taking someone else’s child, when he knew next to nothing about how to care for one? This was a far cry from an innocent gesture. He must have not fully comprehended the weight of his decisions.<br/>Thalleous suddenly stopped in his thoughts, coming across something he found odd. What was this feeling that had invaded his mind? Was this… regret?<br/>No. He forced the thought away once again, scoffing at himself audibly. What was he doing, standing here exposed like this? He didn’t have time to think about it now. What mattered most at this very moment was getting away from this place and finding somewhere safer where both he and the child could rest. Oh, how he longed for a safe bed. He hadn’t had a decent sleep in weeks.<br/>His eyes turned back to the flames once again, those tendrils of heat snaking their way through the tall grass behind his feet. Thalleous could only think of why the exiled Ardoni had set this place ablaze in the first place. What had they been after to elicit such an attack? He had heard something about a “prize”, as the leader that he had left for dead had called it. What had they been looking for? Was it even here?<br/>He saw red and ducked into the field grass, hoping beyond hope that his markings would not give the two away. The Voltaris male scanned the clearing with blood red eyes. Thalleous held his breath and soundlessly unsheathed the diamond sword from his back. If the traitor spotted them, he would not get the chance to cry out before the sword was covered in his blood.<br/>The Voltaris turned away, putting back the arrow that he had notched in his bow a moment ago. Making no sound, he returned to his task. The Champion was far too on edge to move just yet, however, his eyes still fixed on the movement across the burning plain.<br/>Thalleous could not watch as the Voltaris hefted bodies, all alike in their voids of markings, carting them away to a fiery fate. Father, mother, every child... and the baby, the one he now protected, was the last of their family.<br/>What would happen to him if the Voltaris found him? Would they cast him away as well? Or would they stand and gape, slowly twisting his young mind to fight for their cause? How slow and agonizing that fate would be, wholly unbefitting for such a tiny child.<br/>His heart twisted in his chest, enraged by the mere notion. Frankly, he wouldn’t put it past the Voltaris to commit such an atrocity. He had seen them do many things in his long life. It was one of the many reasons why he chose long ago to hunt them down since the beginning. He could never see any mercy in a hue such as theirs. Never again…<br/>At that moment, the infant in Thalleous’ arms suddenly shifted and began to cry again. Thalleous hissed, quickly ducking behind a tree trunk and daring a glance over his shoulder. Fortunately, no figures were traced by the fading firelight. He sighed, wincing as the clanless’ cries intensified.<br/>Not knowing what else to do, Thalleous wrapped his fingers tighter around the baby’s figure, bouncing him slightly yet awkwardly. He did not know if he had ever felt this helpless before.<br/>“Do not be anxious, young one,” he whispered to the small Ardoni. Amusing how his own anxiety must have taken the place of the infant’s. A strange resolve hardened like a heavy boulder in his chest, and he continued. “I will not let them take you.” Yes, that is what he would call the child. He did not know of the boy’s real name, and that pained him a little. He never would.<br/>There was a horrifying stench of burning flesh flaring in his nostrils. He knew instantly what had become of the corpses. Waves of nausea rolled in his gut and threatened to spill out his mouth as he inhaled the death, the decay.<br/>For all his years, Thalleous felt guilty. He could feel it as he slumped against the trunk at his back, his fingers wavering on the smooth hilt of his sword, his eyes squeezing tighter. He banished the tears away. He could not fall into that deep hole of despair. Never again. He had clutched at its surface, long ago, crawling out of the darkness, his markings casting teal blue light on its grime-covered walls. Light was hope. Light was the chance to live on, despite the turmoil.<br/>The child was quieter now. Thalleous’ inexperienced comforting methods, by some miracle, must have worked. He sang a grateful message to the stars for the provision. He then pushed away from the tree with his free hand and began to run through the high grass again.<br/>A sound came from his right. Thalleous breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Ariadne from the side of his vision. The mare nickered pleasantly amid the chaotic scene, her spotted grey coat seemingly untouched. The Champion picked up his pace and sped towards the horse immediately. Ariadne stole a glance at the baby and nuzzled her head into Thalleous’ arm slightly as if asking who this new arrival was. Thalleous pushed her away gently, smiling.<br/>“Someone to bring with us in our travels, Ariadne,” he spoke softly to the horse. Her deep brown eyes did not leave the small Ardoni, eyeing him curiously. As if acting on intuition, she stilled before her rider, allowing Thalleous to climb into her back with little jostling.<br/>The Sendaris fixed the greatsword on his back before leaning forward and whispering something gentle but firm into Ariadne’s ear. The sounds were meant only for the horse to understand. At his spurrings, she burst into an accelerated gallop. Thalleous clutched the mare’s mane with one hand, his other wrapping tighter around the child.<br/>It was several minutes later when the Champion looked back at the receding horizon of flames, watching it grow dimmer and dimmer. Water splashed at Ariadne’s knees as she trotted across the river. Light drops of rain speckled his face. With the water nearby, the tension in Thalleous’ muscles eased, and he relaxed, leaning against Ariadne slightly. Despite his past experiences with it as well as its unwieldy nature, water always seemed to calm him.<br/>He glanced down at the child he held. He looked to be sleeping again, finally, for which Thalleous was very grateful. The poor thing must have cried himself to exhaustion. He placed his hand gently on the child’s forehead, feeling the warmth that emanated from the tiny being.<br/>A strange feeling crept into Thalleous’ veins, warming him faster than any Song could. He almost couldn’t believe that this—this tiny Ardoni—was more than just that. He was a living, breathing being, with a heart and a mind. So impressionable, so innocent. Thalleous’ own heart almost broke at the thought. What he wouldn’t give to unsee the many traumas in his two hundred years of breath. He almost envied the child… almost.<br/>Not only was Thalleous in wonder, but he was also uncertain of the future ahead. Things he had never dreamed of before ran through his head. They drifted through his head like fleeting flurries of blossoming roses. Roses. He marveled.<br/>Who was going to care for this child now that his family had been stolen away? Should he take him to one of the clans? The baby was too weak to survive that long unless Thalleous found something for him, and soon. Would the child be accepted? Why were his markings pure white?<br/>His markings… Thalleous was hit with the oddity of the child’s appearance. A thought bloomed. He could go to Nestoria… yes, that is what he would do. If there were any Ardoni who would know how to discern the young one’s condition, it would be them.<br/>Thalleous’ heart became heavy, and he sighed. A great weight now rested on his shoulders. He welcomed it, albeit numbly. One more to add to the ever-encompassing load.<br/>He spurred Ariadne into a gallop once more, fortunately not waking the child. There were no possibilities for backward steps. He could only move forward. What in Ardonia was he going to do?</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Moments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No better song to listen to for this one than the Oakendale theme itself: “Arriving in Town” composed by Afterinfinity for our beloved Songs of War series!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is in the quiet moments, the ones when we feel the presence of others, that offer us the purest form of peace.</p>
<p>The capital of Conchord was only a half-day’s ride from what now remained of the child’s village. Banners and grass floated in the light breeze that stirred the air, hues of browns, greens, greys, and whites taking shapes from the individual building structures and market stalls. The sounds of civilization became clearer as a figure, glowing a peaceful blue, rode towards the town atop a dark silver horse.<br/>The windmill vanes spinning lazily in the wind contrasted against the tense air down below, amid rolling hills of wheat and other crops. The town bustled about in its regular late-morning routine. Exchanges and barters were made at various market stalls piled with fresh goods. Tradesmen bargained for cheaper prices and more advantageous wares. Artisans milled about in their mundane schedules: smithing, looming, but mostly farming. The hot summer sun beat down on the populace, but Thalleous didn’t mind much.<br/>The Ardoni reached the outskirts of Oakendale, dismounting Ariadne and leading her to a nearby stable, walking at a leisurely pace to avoid waking the child still in his arms. He whispered something only meant for her and stroked her nose lovingly with his free hand before guiding her to a fence post. There, he tied her to the pole for the courtesy of the stableheads, tossing them a few gold coins for the care of his steed. He didn’t plan on staying here long.<br/>The child had awoken earlier that morning, wailing for Thalleous would never know what. Now, the baby resorted to making soft fussing noises. Thalleous assumed that the small one was hungry, as he had had nothing for sustenance since what was presumably the night before. An Ardoni his age would have to keep up his appetite in order to thrive and grow. The child had calmed down significantly since then, but his tiny lips were puckered in a subconscious plea for food.<br/>Thalleous was embarrassed to admit that he had no idea what to feed the child. He had thought about going to some of the mothers that he was sure he’d find in the town. But how would they know what to give him? There were only a majority of human mothers in Oakendale, he imagined, and the nearest Ardoni village was several days’ ride. The child would not survive that long. He had an idea, but he wasn’t sure it would work. He admitted it was far from perfect. However, it would keep the infant’s strength up until they reached Nestoria.<br/>Thalleous saw a sign for an inn and strode to the wooden structure. The building was two stories, with windows overlooking the bustling streets and a tavern beneath where visitors could lounge and feast. As the Sendaris stepped through the small door, his azure eyes took a moment to adjust to the rather dim lighting.<br/>It looked to be like any other regular inn, with a desk near the front for incoming customers and a staircase leading to the various rooms on the second floor. To Thalleous’ right, a few tables and chairs were set up, with the sunlight streaming through the dingy windows and painting the corners of the room a pale gold. A few beings, mostly humans, sat around the tables, talking amongst each other around half-chewed bites of food and spilled drinks. A weary girl stood nearby at the beck and call to clean up the messes the rowdy customers were leaving.<br/>In an almost-numb silence, Thalleous skirted past the drunkards and slobs, trying his best not to inhale the stench. He would never understand humans and their incessant desire for escapes through food and drink. It was probably best he never tried to understand. A horse would not look at a pig and possibly know what the pig knew, felt, understood. So it was the same with the Ardoni and humans.<br/>The clanless infant let out a sudden sharp wail, and Thalleous almost jumped. He sighed and pushed his way farther to the back of the room, where the innkeeper was selling various food items to his buyers from behind a thin counter.<br/>He had a pale face with long dark hair that stuck to his forehead and clothing with splotches and grease stains littered on it. “And for you?” the human drawled. Thalleous replied with his request.<br/>There was a moment of silence as the innkeeper inspected the Sendaris with a more alert eye this time. He stared nervously at the diamond greatsword still fixed on Thalleous’ back, not wanting to be parted with the weapon. Were he a regular human or some other species of a “lesser” kind, the keeper would have warned about the “no weapons” policy he kept under strict conditions inside his inn. However, he was intimidated by the large Ardoni and instead kept his mouth shut.<br/>“8 gold,” the keeper crowed, wanting nothing more to do with the Ardoni. Thalleous fished out the allotted amount and handed the money to the man. With one last weary glance at the Champion, the keeper handed him two loaves of bread and a bowl of watered-down stew that had been ladled from the pot over the fire. Thalleous nodded his appreciation and, with no small difficulty, balanced the child in one arm and the food in the other.<br/>The Champion found a secluded corner in the tavern where he would be more comfortable and set his sword down on the table, the wood slightly creaking under the blade’s sheer weight. It served more as a reminder to nearby passerby that this Ardoni was not to be messed with. Most of the people around seemed to understand the gesture, as many now turned their fleeting eyes away from the pair and back to their meals.<br/>Thalleous then took to the task of actually feeding himself and the young one. He set the food down on the wood and then precariously lowered the infant into the crook of his arm again, all while taking a seat on the chair set out next to the table. The child was quite light, yet Thalleous still found it difficult to hold him like this continuously. He would have to find a more convenient way of carrying the child around.<br/>He shifted unsteadily. The chair felt cramped, and his knees brushed against the table’s underside. Thalleous sighed. Just one of the disadvantages of belonging to a species larger than humans. He set his mind on the steaming stew and bread in front of him.<br/>His eyes turned to the bowl. The soup would be too hot for the child. He took the small wooden spoon in his hands and ate the contents slowly, careful not to burn himself. When it was just the broth left over, he let it sit out until it would be cool enough. In the meantime, he began to rip chunks of bread off of one of the loaves and drop them into the broth to soften.<br/>The child in his arms fidgeted and squirmed. He could feel the restlessness in the infant’s miniscule figure. He set to bouncing the child, but that didn’t seem to help this time. He only cried more.<br/>Thalleous sighed heavily, a little fed up himself. “It will be ready when it cools, small one. Have patience.” The child quieted a little, but not by much, as he could not understand his temporary caretaker.<br/>It was a few minutes of restless shushing and bouncing later that passed them by. Thalleous guided the baby to a sitting position, cautiously placing a hand on his neck and back to support him. The Champion glanced back at the bowl and discerned it was cool enough for his task and took the spoon in hand again. He dug out a piece of softened bread and pressed further into it until it was no more than a pulp of flour and yeast. He gently guided the mouthful of bread and broth to the child’s mouth.<br/>The baby’s eyes widened as he inhaled the scent of the hearty meal, and his tiny lips sucked greedily on the spoon. Thalleous couldn’t help but chuckle at the perplexed expression the child made. It went on like this for a while, with the Champion slowly feeding the child more of the bread and broth, his small stomach gradually ceasing its rumbles.<br/>Just as Thalleous was about to put the child back to sleep, however, the child suddenly spasmed and opened his mouth. A thick, white liquid splattered all across the Sendaris’ lap, and the baby began to whimper, raising his fists in the air as if in protest.<br/>“That was uncalled for,” Thalleous said dryly once he had finally gotten over the initial shock of getting thrown up on. The child gurgled in response, more of the sticky fluid dribbling down his chin as it bubbled from his lips.<br/>As much as it disgusted him, the older Ardoni could not bring himself to be mad in any way. He allowed a smile to pass across his face, though it was fleeting. “Do not worry, young one,” he reassured as he wiped the child’s face with a thumb. “The older you grow, the harder it is to keep in. At least words, more or less.”<br/>When the child had quieted once more, now taking to staring up at the planked ceiling, Thalleous took his leave. He sheathed his sword again and tucked away the remaining piece of bread for the journey, then exited the inn. The sun greeted him as an old friend, and he smiled at the warmth. The child closed his eyes against the bright light and was soon snoozing again.<br/>As Thalleous pushed his way through the growing crowds, however, impatience gnawed at him. He felt a sudden urgency to get to Nestoria as soon as possible, and he went out of his way to seek a few shortcuts to get back to the stables as hastily as he could. But as the time passed, as he trudged through darker passages and around buildings blocking the sun’s rays, he could not shake off the feeling that someone was watching him.<br/>Thalleous’ trained warrior eyes scanned every hiding place. The spies were not trying to hide, however. He counted them out: one to his left, another to his right, a third glowing orange behind. Magnorites. Tall, strong, impenetrable: creatures of children’s nightmares, they were. The Champion ducked into the space between two houses before they could follow, purposefully quickening his pace. Just a few minutes more, and he would be free of this place.<br/>A hulking figure silhouetted by the morning sun appeared in the only exit, blocking off Thalleous’ escape. The Sendaris stopped abruptly and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the long explanation to come before relaxing and putting on as warm a smile as he could muster.<br/>“Such a fanciful meeting,” he greeted through slightly clenched teeth. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?” He could feel the presence of the three that had followed his back as they made a circle around him, blocking off any chance for an escape.<br/>“I don’t think you understand, Ardoni,” the Magnorite in front of him spoke again, his booming voice echoing off of the sides of the alley as he strode forward. “You’ve crossed into our territory, ancient one. And when you cross over…” The Magnorites around Thalleous began to pound their cracking fists and shake out their rocky limbs as if trying to intimidate the lone Ardoni. Thalleous had to wonder if Magnorites were just naturally inclined to conflict or they were always seeking out opportunities to be dangerous nuisances. He would never say it to their faces, however. He knew all too well to refrain from idle insults.<br/>Thalleous peered over the slightly taller Magnorite’s shoulder and noticed the slums of the Magnorite dwellings just outside the reaches of the town: cobbled huts that seemed to cave into each other and puddles of lava that sucked the very life out of the ground, leaving it grey and dry. They were just around the corner at the alley’s end, but Thalleous realized he was stepping rather close to their homes regardless.<br/>“Help’m out, Kushar,” one of the smaller Magnorites cheered from the side. His voice sounded younger but still rather frightening.<br/>It was not that he was afraid. Thalleous was willing to fight off these Magnorites if he was by himself and had no other choice but to confront them. However, he had to think of the child. One wrong move from one of these creatures, and the young one would die. A shell of warm protectiveness encased his heart. He wished he had a Protisium right about now.<br/>Thalleous knew better than to patronize them. He had seen the way they fought, long ago, in the Great War: attacking and defending with brute force, nigh indestructible. If one were to attack him, they would all attack. One wrong move, one slip-up of his tongue, and he was as good as dead.<br/>“Like I said before, I had best be on my way. I do not wish to offer any form of insult,” Thalleous continued slowly, his tone careful but warning. His fingers clenched, itching for the feeling of his sword in his grasp. He didn’t like the idea of being left vulnerable when something was amiss. He fought the urge to reach for its hilt. “If you would be so kind as to let me through, I will speak nothing of this encounter.”<br/>The Magnorite in the center—Kushar—stood stock still for quite an uncomfortably long amount of time, the liquid magma inside churning, in turn expanding the coarse rocks of diorite piling on his form. He looked to be rising in height, and Thalleous’ stomach churned slightly. He rarely had to look up to anyone.<br/>If he was intimidated, he certainly didn’t show it in his manner. He cleared his throat. At that moment, the child he held squirmed and curled into his chest. Thalleous looked down for a moment, pulling the blanket closer around the infant’s figure before looking back up at Kushar and continuing. “If not for my sake, then certainly the child’s. I would like to get him to a place where he can rest.”<br/>Kushar’s flaming eyes studied the small Ardoni as if it was the first time he had noticed the child. He unconsciously leaned a little closer, and the child began to whimper as the heat around him grew, pulling a tiny fist from the blanket and holding it upwards. The Magnorite finally gave a crooked half-smile. His large hand gestured to the now-vacant alley as he finally parted for the Ardoni to pass. “Children... such fragile beings,” he growled, his voice bordering a thick purr.<br/>Thalleous slowly made his way past the glaring Magnorite, careful to tread past the fumes radiating off of the rock creature. He noticed the lead one gave off a faint odor that smelled vaguely of sulfur as he passed him, and Thalleous didn’t want to bother him any further. He actually marveled at himself, if only slightly. With only a little bit of placid talk to help these Magnorites understand, they were actually quite reasonable.<br/>“But I expect you to have learned your lesson, Sendaris,” the lead Magnorite called out after him. Thalleous turned around, walking backwards as he did so. “Expect no more, dear friend,” he replied, more sarcastic than sincere, however, before continuing his way.<br/>One of the smaller Magnorites scoffed. “The nerve of some of those–” Thalleous didn’t hear the rest as he rounded the corner. He made sure to steer clear of the cave dwellings this time.<br/>The Champion slowly picked his way back to the stables and found Ariadne, just as he had left her. He quickly mounted her and spurred her to a run, away from the town.<br/>He couldn’t help but glance down at the child he held another time. The encounter with the Magnorites didn’t seem to have affected him, for which Thalleous was grateful. The infant was peacefully asleep once more.<br/>Thalleous sighed heavily, pushing Ariadne harder. He could not afford lost time. The sooner he reached Nestoria, the better.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Shattered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The song for this chapter is “Nannis”- Atis Freivalds.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Can you assume what shattered pasts lie before you in a stranger?</p>
<p>A sunrise parted the dark of night, melting away to hues of red and gold. The rock spires jutting from the shallow dunes under the surface cast long shadows upon the shore, strange meddling creatures known as surf swallowers perched upon the rocks. They dove down into the water with their translucent wings spread wide, eager to catch their daily fill of fish.<br/>
Thalleous rather enjoyed the soft lapping of the waves meeting the sand, caressing harsh rock to silky sediments. Slow but constant. He remembered a much less fortunate time he had visited Nestoria, when storms were unchained and water walls the size of mountains beat the cliffs. The season of storms, the Nestoris called it. A time of frantic anarchy and desperate prayers. Yet, today was much more tame in nature. The frothing beast had laid itself to rest, at least for now, nevertheless ready to spring forth at any time it pleased.<br/>
The infant in Thalleous’ arms shifted to get a better look at the water, the salty spray of the sea wrinkling his nose. It was a rare time when he was awake and not hungry or fussing. He focused his wide pale eyes on seabirds flying overhead, the warm air ruffling their feathers. His small lips parted slightly as his gaze drifted. He looked amazed.<br/>
Ariadne soon began to pass small homes of bushes and caves, treading on the soft valley grass between them. The Nestoris turned to the newcomer, some calling out greetings or welcoming gestures, others shrugging and continuing on with their days.<br/>
Still, Thalleous pressed on. He had one particular Nestoris in mind he was searching for. Soon enough, he reached a familiar sight, rock formations jutting out from the sea in such a way that they resembled needles of stone. He dismounted, pulling the small blanket tighter around the child before stepping forward. He left Ariadne to graze nearby. He trusted her not to wander.<br/>
A female Nestoris came towards him. She was graceful and fair despite her age, light hair in a bun, loose strands framing eyes of compassion and knowledge beyond the few Thalleous had seen. She stepped forward and spoke.<br/>
“We welcome your arrival, Ky’Thalleous Sendaris,” she began, her voice soft. Her eyes drifted to the child in his arms. “The Champion has brought more than sword and steed, it seems.”<br/>
“I have come to see Master Aurelius. He is present, I presume?” Thalleous asked.<br/>
“Indeed, although I would not know personally where he is at this moment,” the Nestoris answered. She took a step back and remembered. “I am Mya Nestoris,” she said.<br/>
“Well met, Mya,” he replied. “I—”<br/>
Thalleous did not quite know how to go about saying it. “I am rather weary of this child’s company, and I feel others may be better suited to attend to his needs?”<br/>
Mya understood his meaning instantly and gave a warm smile. “Of course,” she said, stretching her hands out expectantly.<br/>
Thalleous mouthed a “thank you” and allowed Mya to take the child, momentarily noting her kindness as she left. The child began to fuss as if frightened, but a quick, expert shushing from the Nestoris calmed him, and he settled down in her arms.<br/>
Now relieved of the boy for the moment, the Sendaris rolled his shoulders back and began to walk, more landforms bringing back old memories, the forest trees looming high above his head. As he neared the cave he knew to be Aurelius’, he caught sight of a Nestoris walking out of it.<br/>
“I have come to see Master Aurelius,” he told the other Ardoni in passing a few moments later.<br/>
“You may meet him in his quarters,” the Nestoris replied as he nodded, briskly making his way to his daily troubles once again. Thalleous raised an eyebrow but made his way up the hill to the cave. Gravel crunched beneath his feet on the rocky path. From this slight height, the view of the sea was breathtaking, the sky dripping honey-colored sunlight into the warm saltwater below.<br/>
He and Aurelius had known each other since the time of the Great War, both with tremendous deeds under their belts, as it were. Both able-bodied warriors, young and arrogant during the battles they had fought side by side. After the great Master and lone survivor of the massacre caused by the Deathsinger, Aegus Nestoris, passed away not long after the War’s end, Aurelius had taken up the mantle and bore it faithfully all the years since. Out of all the Masters, Aurelius was the one that Thalleous knew and trusted the most.<br/>
The Sendaris found his way into the home-cave and stood against a wall near the entrance, waiting for Aurelius to arrive. He set his sword aside. After a few moments, the thudding of metal against stone could be heard, and Thalleous looked up. There stood Aurelius, smiling broadly, leaning heavily against his staff with the Nestoris from earlier by his side.<br/>
It was common knowledge that Aurelius was older than most Ardoni. This had prompted some to believe that he required an advisor to help him with work that would be strenuous at his age. Antolles Nestoris was that advisor, a young, silent individual. He was quite loyal to Aurelius, picking up for him whenever the Master felt tired or overwhelmed. The older Nestoris trusted work to be finished whenever Antolles was around.<br/>
“You may leave us, Antolles.” The advisor looked between his Master and the Champion, then nodded slowly and exited the cave. Thalleous ran his hand along a table in a nook of stone.<br/>
“So…” he began. “How have you fared as of late?”<br/>
“Growing older every minute. But, it happens to the best, does it not, Thalleous?”<br/>
Thalleous smiled. “The very best indeed.”<br/>
“It is very good to see you, after all these years. But why have you come, Thalleous?”<br/>
The Sendaris didn’t wish to waste time, he decided to go straight to his conclusion. “The child, Aurelius.”<br/>
“Ah, yes,” Aurelius said as he nodded, setting his staff against the wall before slowly lowering himself into a seat. “I heard some whispers among the villagers that you had brought a young one with you. Do you bring trouble with you, or does he follow you everywhere?” the Nestoris asked, his tone light.<br/>
When Thalleous didn’t make any move to reply other than a slight smile, the Master asked another question. “And where is the child now?”<br/>
“With Ky’Mya.”<br/>
“Ah, yes.” Aurelius nodded. “A kind soul, she is. He is in good hands.”<br/>
“And that is what I have come to you for, Aurelius,” Thalleous said.<br/>
“Oh?”<br/>
He sighed. “The boy’s family is dead, fault of the Voltaris.” The Nestoris visibly stiffened at the mention of the exiled clan but said nothing, allowing Thalleous to continue. “I came to you for guidance. I must find a home for him.”<br/>
Aurelius shook his head, looking down. “That is what I am afraid of, my friend,” he said sadly.<br/>
“Whatever do you mean?”<br/>
“He is clanless, is he not?”<br/>
Thalleous nodded. “He is. I have not seen the likes of it before.”<br/>
The Nestoris’ eyes drifted. “Clanless Ardoni are unheard of amongst most. However, those of us higher up on wisdom’s rungs are not as fortunate to hold such ignorance. I am afraid the boy’s family has been estranged from the clans for possibly a century or more,” Aurelius estimated.<br/>
“‘Estranged’? Like the Voltaris?”<br/>
Aurelius pursed his lips. “They were exiled for reasons I will not utter here,” he replied. It was clear he did not wish to say the name of the wretched clan. “But you already know that, Thalleous. This—the boy’s predicament—this is different.”<br/>
Thalleous was growing tired of these trifle matters. “Can you take him or not?” he finally asked.<br/>
“Take him?”<br/>
“Initiate him, teach him the ways of the Nestoris, care for him, whatever you prefer to call it,” he listed off.<br/>
Aurelius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I—we—must first determine the identity of this child. When his clan is revealed, we will then decide.”<br/>
“And how will it be revealed, Aurelius?”<br/>
The Nestoris let a small smile show. “For that, I may have a solution.”</p>
<p>It was much later in the day. Thalleous now sat above the sea on an overhang overlooking the body of water, a natural dock. The fishers had returned home for the day, as there were no more to be seen silhouetted against the sun. He rather enjoyed the silence, after all the stress of the past weeks. He could unravel here, let himself be washed clean of the acts of his past.<br/>
He was alerted of a presence near him and turned, seeing Mya walking towards him with a smile on her face and the child in her arms. Thalleous smiled in return. He was rather glad to see the boy again, even if it had only been a few hours.<br/>
“He has been fed and washed,” Mya said, holding the child out to Thalleous. He took him without much hesitation this time, letting the sleeping baby nestle into his chest for warmth. “Children his age tire quickly,” the Nestoris said, smiling at the child as she sat down next to the Sendaris. “What you feed him should prove sufficient, however. He is old enough to sustain it.”<br/>
Thalleous looked at her. She seemed very knowledgeable. “Do you have children?” he asked.<br/>
She smiled, looking out at the sun as she fondly reminisced. “A son and a daughter,” she replied. “Maran is nearly of age now, and Cera has just passed her twenty-fifth.”<br/>
Thalleous could hear the love of a proud mother in her tone, and he smiled sadly. He was suddenly whisked back to the child’s mother, her last actions to protect him. He never even knew her, another nameless face that was added to the hundreds carried daily in his heavy heart. It was nearly as painful as his Songs were, this painful squeezing in his chest never dimming.<br/>
“How can one be capable of so much love for a person?” he wondered aloud.<br/>
He hadn’t expected her to answer, yet she did. “You cannot know, until they are right in front of you.” Mya looked down at her hands, folding them in her lap. “I cannot explain it, but… I would not trade my children for anything in this world or otherwise.”<br/>
She looked up at the older Sendaris. “But I am intrigued as to why you have taken the boy under your care. Is there anything you care to share with me?”<br/>
Thalleous looked back at her, letting out a sigh. “I suppose.”<br/>
Mya took the response and leaned in slightly. “Why did you take him?”<br/>
He thought about it a moment, his words slow. Her question was innocent enough, he could answer, he supposed. He looked back at the sleeping child in his arms. The words came more naturally than he would have imagined.<br/>
“I saw him, and I knew that I had come there for a reason. It may be one I am not in control of, but there is hardly room for control anymore. I couldn’t save his mother, or his father, or anyone else in his family. I saw him, and I could not bear the thought of leaving him alone to be taken by cold or darkness, or… worse, the Voltaris that killed them.” His eyes burned with a silent fury.<br/>
“They are the reason the child has no one, not anything Aurelius may determine. I could not let them take his life away from him the way they took—”<br/>
He stopped suddenly, catching himself. Had he really—?<br/>
Thalleous blushed a little. He hadn’t meant to—It wasn’t—<br/>
He sighed, looking at Mya. “When they—”<br/>
Why were his emotions betraying him such? It had been so long ago, but he was still the same broken Ardoni he had always been. He tried to speak again but soon gave up. What was the point? They… were gone.<br/>
The Nestoris listened intently to his words. What had this Sendaris truly been through in his many years? Her heart reached out to him and she placed a hand on his arm comfortingly. “A noble deed, Thalleous Sendaris. You did the right thing.”<br/>
He smiled at her and pulled away. “I thank you for your company, Mya.” He stood and turned away, leaving her alone with the wind.</p>
<p>The fading light of the last sunlit hour bounced off of the sea, a magical reflection. The stars lit the paths for the Ardoni to follow, their markings glowing brighter in response to the light. For the stars were their companions, their friends of old, constant through trials and challenges. Always watching, never abandoning.<br/>
Wrought from the heat beneath the earth, diamond of its purest form had power, untamed power. The stars, though far away, were still composed of drastic heat, the very incandescence that spread warmth through their bodies, tainting them with pure starlight. How they had received their markings, long ago… One and the same, even with color summoned forth much later in their history. For they all were Ardoni, descended from the same star.<br/>
Aurelius stood atop a hill, almost a tor, rocks stacked one on top another, the center eroded away from a tide long since lost to the centuries. The Song shrine stood erect nearby, glowing faintly of a mysterious, ethereal blue, humming its own tune, although it was drowned out by the sounds of the waves.<br/>
His eyes drifted across the waves of Nestoris gathered beneath him. They had all gathered as per his request. “Bring forth the child,” the Nestoris Master spoke in the direction where Antolles and the Champion stood next to him. Thalleous obeyed, stepping forth and handling the young one carefully, allowing Aurelius to cradle the boy in one arm. He turned back towards the Nestoris crowd and raised his voice.<br/>
“Ardoni are born. We live, we die, we pass on our lights to our children. All will witness this. Today, we shall let the stars decide his fate.” Aurelius closed his eyes, tilting his head upwards to the stars. With an exhale, he lifted Nestor from the ground a moment later, pointing it at the sky.<br/>
A deafening ring pierced the atmosphere as the staff began to glow, channels of light passing from the heavens down to the diamond, thousands of luminous hairlike threads being absorbed by the mineral. The light was suddenly transferred to the two Ardoni, filling them, their markings glowing. The child screamed, frightened.<br/>
Aurelius’ eyes widened, and he shifted on his feet, seemingly overwhelmed. Antolles made to help the Master, but Thalleous thrust a hand between the two, shaking his head when the advisor shot him a look.<br/>
He was right to do so. While Aurelius did seem to stumble, he did not fall. Their markings grew brighter and brighter, enveloping and shining from beneath their skin, until they were figures of pure starlight. Nestor gleamed, the child cried, Aurelius shook. The Ardoni shielded their eyes from the piercing brilliance, some cowering away from it as if frightened.<br/>
Then, the lights dimmed, the radiance faded. Their eyes took a moment to adjust to the natural lighting once again.<br/>
Aurelius was gasping for breath, none of his markings lit. Neither was the child’s. He had exhausted himself and now slept in Aurelius’ arms. Slowly, color reformed from the deepest fibers of them, a gold shimmer reflecting off of the Nestoris. But, just the same as it was before, the child… remained white.<br/>
The crowd began to whisper. This was no trick of the eye. “I-I don’t understand,” Aurelius stammered.</p>
<p>Thalleous was silent, in shock. They were back in Aurelius’ cave, mere minutes after the shocking discovery. “How?” he asked. “How can this be?”<br/>
“I do not know, Thalleous,” Aurelius replied. “All I can assume is, perhaps… it is physically impossible to initiate the boy.”<br/>
Thalleous paced, frantic at this point. “There has to be some way, something we can do to initiate him into a clan. We cannot leave him like this!”<br/>
“You must understand, Thalleous,” Aurelius interrupted softly. “It cannot be done. And so, you may never find a home for this child.”<br/>
The thought struck him harshly. He couldn’t believe this. After all these years, after all the battles he had faced with them at his side, after all the companions that stood beside him, after all the strife. His companions...<br/>
Achillean had come from Nestoria. His heart ached. The Tidesinger, his ally, his friend…<br/>
He would’ve known what to do.<br/>
“Then…” He sighed heavily. The child belonged here, of all territories, didn’t he? “Can’t you take him?”<br/>
Aurelius stared at Thalleous, a pensive expression on his face. The Master stammered. Thalleous could see clearly that he was trying to come up with a legitimate answer.<br/>
“We… we cannot allow ourselves to open our doors to an Ardoni such as him,” Aurelius began, his tone hesitant.<br/>
“Why, Aurelius?” For the first time since he had arrived, Thalleous was furious. He had come to them for guidance, and all he received in return was truth, striking at his heels like a deadly serpent. There was no reason, was there?<br/>
“You mean to say you do not want to?”<br/>
“We would—”<br/>
“Then why won’t you?”<br/>
Aurelius didn’t answer, turning to stare at Nestor in his hand, subconsciously admiring its twisting, pure diamond luster. His mind drifted. Purity...<br/>
To the Champion, the Nestoris Master almost looked… ashamed. “You misunderstand…” he began, eyes still not leaving the staff.<br/>
Thalleous scoffed. “I should have known you would not be willing to accept an orphan such as himself.” He turned to the opening in the cave, resting his hand against the cold stone wall. “Hearts of gold, yet still heavier and more poisonous than lead,” he said over his shoulder before departing.<br/>
He did not know where he would be going. Certainly not to bed. Sleep was scant these days. He knew the Songs were weakening him again. It was not a good sign, an omen of overuse and abuse.<br/>
He shrugged it off. This was the way it was… the way it had always been. This was how he protected, this was how he fought, this… was how he killed...<br/>
The Champion pushed the thoughts out of his mind. If he would not find a home here for the child, he would find one elsewhere. He would not leave him behind. He would tear apart anyone who would come to harm him.<br/>
Thalleous did not yet know his capabilities.</p>
<p>“Will you not stay here for at least a few days? You certainly could use the rest.”<br/>
“A kind offer, Aurelius,” Thalleous said. “But I have my own agenda to follow.”<br/>
Thalleous glanced over at the gaggle of females leaning over the child, the warm sunlight bathing them. The child had been cared for overnight, rather pampered, if Thalleous had to voice his opinion. The infant had a tiny fist twisted in Mya’s hair from where he lay in her lap, and they all beamed at him. The child responded with a curious grin of his own. Thalleous had never seen him smile so wide.<br/>
“They seem satisfied enough with the boy,” he observed.<br/>
Aurelius smiled. “Do not let them deceive you. I am sure they enjoy the presence of a young one. But... they have their own families to care for.” Thalleous watched as Mya lifted the baby under his arms and laughed as their foreheads touched. The child laughed as well, the exhilarating motion amusing him.<br/>
A small smile tugged at his lips. “I am well aware.” There was a stiff silence for a few moments as the two Ardoni sat, both trying to figure out what to say but neither finding something. The discussion from the night before was still heavy on their minds.<br/>
“Where will you go?” the Nestoris Master asked, breaking the silence.<br/>
Thalleous sighed. “I will ride for Kaltaria. I know of a few leading villages that might consider taking the child.”<br/>
“Kaltaria? Why not Sendaria?” Aurelius asked.<br/>
Thalleous looked down at his hands, not answering.<br/>
“Thalleous…”<br/>
He was silent.<br/>
“It is in the past, Thalleous. Cling to it, if you must, but I advise you do not compromise the boy’s wellbeing for your own comfort.”<br/>
“If none will take him, I will go to Sendaria,” Thalleous said. All too quickly, he felt. He was not ready to let go. He feared he never would.<br/>
Aurelius seemed content with this despite the troubled expression on the Sendaris’ face. “Very well, then.” Nestor struck against the ground as the Master stumbled to his feet, grunting slightly as his bones ached. “Depart with my blessing, Thalleous.”<br/>
Thalleous did not bother to say anything. Gratitude and salutations were not welcome in his mind at this moment. He had hoped for days that they might’ve found a solution to this problem. The boy seemed more abandoned than ever, now that they had rejected him.</p>
<p>The Champion had not wasted time in preparing for the journey ahead. Some had attempted to sway him into staying a few more days, but Thalleous was set on arriving in Kaltaria as soon as possible. They were on the path with him mounted on Ariadne, Mya still holding the child on the ground below.<br/>
A young Nestoris girl clung to Mya’s side. Thalleous looked down at her. She was still young, her horns just barely stretching out beyond her unruly hair. Her eyes were fixed on the child, a somber expression on her face.<br/>
“Say goodbye to him, Cera,” Mya spoke softly. It was clear the young Nestoris had grown rather fond of the child, even if it had only been for a single day she had known him. Cera stood on her toes to kiss the boy on the head. “Bye bye, baby,” she said softly before running off to return to play.<br/>
Mya lifted the child and handed him to Thalleous, no words to speak coming to her mind. He was truly grateful for how open she had been to caring for him during this time.<br/>
“For you,” Mya began, holding her arms out to the mounted Sendaris. Draped between them was a light swath of cloth. “Mothers use these to keep their children close while working,” she explained. “When tied correctly, it should provide the child enough support to remain fastened either in the front or the back.”<br/>
Thalleous smiled and reached down. “I accept your gift,” he said, taking the wrap and pulling it snugly around the child. He then tied the ends about himself in a knot. Ariadne shook her mane impatiently, signaling to her rider that she was eager to travel once again. He turned back to the Nestoris.<br/>
“Peace to you and your family, Mya,” Thalleous said. A smile spread across the Nestoris’ face, and she bowed her head slightly. “I pray that you find a good home for the child soon,” she said.<br/>
He nodded and looked back one more time at the swelling tides, the Nestoris rising from their caves and huts, beginning their daily routines. Then, he pushed Ariadne into a canter, his fingers twisting in her mane freely, no longer burdened with continuously holding the boy. A group of young Nestoris males pushing off from the shore in boats waved at him, and Thalleous waved back.<br/>
The child slept peacefully inside the wrap, shifting slightly. The Sendaris couldn’t help but smile. A voice from the deepest part of his heart spoke a promise to the infant. I swear to you, I will find you a home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi, guys! There was something I wanted to clear up. After a ridiculous amount of thought as to how this chapter was gonna go, as well as chatting with my beta/idea reviewer, I needed to clear up that Senn’s backstory in no way was ever supposed to fit canon in Anew. The idea I ultimately came up with as to why he and his family were Clanless was because they had a physical condition that would not allow them to be part of any clan. I hope this clears any confusion that might have occurred.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Two Worlds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The song for today’s chapter is “Chainsaw Symphony (Escape Velocity) by 2WEI”.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two worlds, one fantasy; two incentives, one mind; two paths, one fate.</p>
<p>He was in Old Voltaria. He knew this place. He had never been to his home territory—few Voltaris of his age had—yet he somehow knew it. The very sinews of his body screamed it. The sweeping wind bending the plain grass, the shadow woods, the winding shallow rivers. Not a sound on the gusts, other than a metallic, shrieking shudder that resembled a stringed instrument.<br/>Tygren’s gaze shifted across the tall grass. It lit before his eyes as they swept across the dying landscape, starving flames that choked for oxygen. He heard footsteps padding across the damp soil and turned.<br/>A female Voltaris stood before him, every inch of her dried as a corpse, cracked lips, long hair black as the night breaking at their roots. Her markings flickered every shade of red he had seen in any of his brethren. The thing that struck him the hardest, however, were the jagged markings adorning her front resembling his own.<br/>“What do you want, Tygren?” Her voice shifted on the wind, circling him like a flock of birds, each pinning him with the sounds that came from their sharpened beaks. “Power, respect…” The Voltaris stopped, her eyes squinting as she studied him. He took a step back, scandalized. “Love?”<br/>She knew she had struck a nerve by the look on his face. Now she was pressing down further on the wound she had inflicted, picking at it as a child might pick at a scab, furthering scars to mar the flesh. Healing was out of the question.<br/>“A hand to hold that will only disappear in time,” she continued. She began to sweep towards him, her ankles brushing against the flaming grass. The fire did not deter her, scorching her skin, leaving seemingly excruciating burns, but her face did not flicker like the flames did. He began to back away, farther into the weeds.<br/>He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had been but a child. He could not have done anything about it. He was not about to let them win. It was not his fault.<br/>“Do not blame us, Tygren.”<br/>She knew. She knew every thought. He grit his teeth, leaving an ache in their roots as his jaw clenched.<br/>A smile broke across her features, taunting him, her eyes beginning to flame like the grass around her, those scarlet pupils smoldering to ashes to meld with her void irises. “But you ask, why are you still…” She paused for an effect that tormented him. “Alone?”<br/>He growled at the word. Alone. Alone. Always alone.<br/>	“Because you are not capable of love,” his mother spat, her hair swept about her face by an impalpable gale. Her vermillion eyes met his, he could not look away. “And you will never be loved.”<br/>	Another voice, from behind this time. Tygren whirled around. “Why must you always be such a burden, Tygren?”<br/>	His father, a blank stare in his eyes. His partner materialized by his side, reaching for the other’s hand. Their fingers locked together, hardening into stone. They had died together, they would lie in peace together, digits intertwining. “No one ever wanted you. No one needs you.”<br/>	No. They were only telling him lies, vicious lies. It was all in his head.<br/>But it was his reality.<br/>	“I don’t want to play with you, Tygren,” a young child’s voice drifted past him.<br/>	“You’re a disgrace to your clan,” a male’s voice tore through, a wretched whisper. He knew them all, each unique intonation familiar in their own intensity, rising and falling in volume, drowning out any other sound in this void. Were they memories? Imagination? Had he left Old Voltaria? All he could see was red.<br/>	“You speak for yourself, but who else do you speak for?” his mother’s voice spoke to him once again. The tears accumulated, but they would not fall.<br/>“No one,” she answered for him, cocking her head slightly with an amused expression on her face. “Because you do not care.”<br/>They appeared as ghostly figures before him, circling him. He remembered his designation as Aide, the Supporium ropes seeping into his wrists, binding him to this unfortunate fate. It was done. He would fail before he had even begun. <br/>	Were they dreams? Apparitions? What was real? What was fantasy? He did not know. He could not know. Time was a concept here, never marked in stone, vanquished by an endless shadow. Tangible? Never. In this vacuum, everything was plausible.<br/>He reached for them, but their forms passed between his fingers. He… he could not feel them. They did not exist… did they?<br/>	“Brother.” Tygren whirled around at the voice.<br/>It was Cidiean, standing upright, a pike lodged in his chest, blood dripping down onto his feet. His eyes were glassy, extinguished, yet still fixed on Tygren. His feet shuffled across a sea of stars, blinking as they danced among the ripples.<br/>“You have killed me, Tygren.” His brother’s eyes sunk into his heart, piercing it with a sword, needling through his chest. “You. And you forget just how much I sacrificed for you! What is it like, to feel nothing?”<br/>A churning, grating scrape of metal drummed methodically in the deep waters: a clock, Tygren determined, coaxing him ever closer to his fate. He could feel its thrums shaking his core. He reached out for something to hold onto to steady himself, but no such thing appeared.<br/>Strokes of thunder pounded into him, a hammer shattering his eardrums. He looked all around him as the Voltaris were obstructed by gleaming bars, materializing through a dissipating grey fog.<br/>He was in a cage, imprisoned among pursuers. Their leering faces grinned at him, foaming amid sharp teeth, paralyzing him with their loathe-filled stares.<br/>The bars folded and curved towards him, and he began to panic. He grabbed hold of them, Aggressium beginning to crackle between his knuckles, and a sphere of energy formed in front of his chest. It exploded in a brilliant light to shatter the beams, but pushed him back in the process. Tygren stumbled and fell.<br/>Was there a hole behind him? There had not been one before. But he was only falling now, his stomach dropping. He felt sick as he fell, and fell, and fell.<br/>And then, suddenly, he was standing upright again, atop a sea of dark crystal glass. He felt like he was gazing into a Prime Song—he had seen one, long ago—attempting to comprehend infinity.<br/>They fell with him. Corpses. Blood raining down on him, blinding him. Thick, hot, rancid. Songs struck from the ground up, their brilliant hues flashing through his vision, their forgotten melodies crawling into his ears.<br/>Tygren could hear each individual voice spreading through every corner of his mind, prodding at his flaws, finding weak links in the chains that shackled him, brutally twisting them to their advantage.<br/>	He grasped at his hair, however, he felt it slipping between his fingers. The pain was there, yet he could not feel. He was nonexistent, a flame snuffed out, a waste of space.<br/>Their markings morphed into a swirling stream of red, dripping from his guilt-stained fingers and pooling between his toes. Warm and terrible.<br/>	Bloodshot eyes. Clenched jaw. He tore the hair from his skull. Spinning. Dizziness was melding with fury to disorient him, torment him, break him.<br/>And then, he screamed, a desperate sound that pleaded with nothing for solace. The voices stilled. He was alone, darkness sweeping all around him. A wick in a candle, swaddled in void, searching for oxygen. Fruitless. Pointless. There was nothing for him here.</p>
<p>Tygren awoke, cursing himself at his sweat-drenched state. Dreams were far more forgiving than reality. He was not in Old Voltaria. He was in his bed. Mt. Velgrin.<br/>He cast the furs aside. Nothing would warm him this night, no slow sleep of burial rest. He did not care for the feeling of anything pressing in on him, confining him, suffocating him. It reminded him too much of the unshakable feeling he underwent every waking moment, a smothering of his senses, dreams only raising them to be thrown down once more. It was a living nightmare, his existence, one that he did not wish would remain his.<br/>A gentle snowfall befell Mt. Velgrin, a haze of burning ice that pelted skin and weakened bones. Needling icicles, pounding further into his soul. <br/>The chilled air was defeated by a warmth from a fire in the corner of the cave. He made towards it, staring into its seemingly endless flames. He remembered an easier time, a night no warmer than this one atop this mountain of ice. He remembered a child. Young, vigilant, proud. Where had that boy gone? Where had he gone?<br/>He knew. That child had been crushed, mutilated by scorn and neglect over the near-century length of his life. There was no thread, no echo, no husk of a past self. He could search for it endlessly and never find a trace.<br/>They had called him insane, they had called him unfeeling. Not right in the head. Always seeing things that were not there. In truth, he was just another victim to misfortune. Sickness spread through him every waking moment and ate him alive in his night terrors. He was insane. Best to accept it and move forward.<br/>Footsteps sounded from behind him. Tygren did not turn. He could hear the gnarled knuckles cracking as they gripped the twisted staff. He already knew who had come. Several other echoes of feet reverberated off the walls as well, other Voltaris. Still awake at this hour… they were never satisfied for anything.<br/>“Where is the artifact, Tygren?”<br/>The Aide was silent, as if he had never heard Leon in the first place. Just another grating voice that he refused to let prove sway over him. He even had the gall to ignore his title.<br/>“Do you realize how much this matters for our plans to succeed? We need the artifact, Tygren, or the Nether will never establish their reign.”<br/>Endings come from those who take action. Cidiean had told him that once. He would not tarry any longer. He had already killed for the old man. What was another taken worth?<br/>Tygren heard the telltale whispering of dark magic enveloping Leon's hands. The older had always considered it a necessary risk to be taken, but it had always left the younger Voltaris distressed, hollow even.<br/>“My sources have concluded that it was none other than Thalleous Sendaris who fled the scene of the attack,” Leon continued, gazing into the purple aura. “Perhaps, at this very moment, he is fleeing to the remaining clans with the artifact in his possession. Will you do nothing about this, Tygren? What of your brother? You cannot wait to avenge him.”<br/>His brother… the Champion… oh, how he hated that Sendaris.<br/>But that voice had haunted his realities for far too long. No way to escape this. It was time to face his demons.<br/>He heard Leon sigh and chuckle. “So many years of learning, and yet still the Aide refuses to listen to any of his admirers.”<br/>His fingers swayed on the hilt of his sword. Balanced, precarious… careful, he told himself, or it would prove too much when the time came.<br/>“Still a child, Tygren...”<br/>He threw the sword, never taking his eyes off the flames. Flesh tore behind him, scraping against blade. The whispering subsided. Blood spilled, staining the floor a stone grey.<br/>Wide eyes centered on the now-lone Voltaris, watching idly as his fingers pressed into a fist at his side. The blow had been inflicted, judgment bestowed. Leon’s choked, blood-filled gasps disintegrated into deathly silence. The red faded.<br/>Tygren’s face was unreadable. “I am not a child any longer, and I will not be treated as such,” he growled, his eyes turning to hardened gems of ruby stone the longer he stared into the flames. “I am a leader, fully capable of making my own decisions!”<br/>The silence was the response. Even the fire it seemed had dimmed to a dull roar, cowering in fear of its maker.<br/>Tygren finally turned away from the fire, his gaze flicking towards the dimmed Voltaris on the floor. The purring voice of the old man still pounded in his head, beating him mercilessly, breaking him down to pulverized pieces. He was hewn from the rock, a bloodied diamond, nigh indestructible. Or, so he believed…<br/>They would not play with his mind any longer. They would not turn him slowly to their wills. He did not need their voices in his head. He would not let them control him.<br/>His thoughts shifted to that accursed Champion that had devastated his clan, had left his brother to die. He had escaped, leaving destruction behind. And still, they did not possess the artifact. The Nether would not be forgiving.<br/>As much as he longed to give that Sendaris what he had earned, it was not his time to step out of the shadows yet. Something would have to be done about him.<br/>“Riorden.”<br/>“H-he’s not present, Tygren,” a Voltaris began.<br/>“Then summon him here,” the Aide growled, tone remarkably steady. The Voltaris bowed his head and left the cave. It was a few minutes later before he returned with another male trudging behind him, his markings nearly as dark as death itself. The small crowd parted before the two. Riorden Voltaris stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for instruction.<br/>“Find that Sendaris,” Tygren ordered, stooping to remove his sword from the old Voltaris’ throat. “The one who slaughtered our brothers. He must know where the artifact is.” His eyes never left his blade as he wiped the blood off it, shaking it off his fingers. “And if he refuses to tell you... break him until he concedes.”<br/>	The Aide stepped towards the lesser Voltaris, their eyes meeting. Tygren remained calm, which only shook Riorden more. “My trust in you is higher than any other in our clan. I would… loathe to find it misplaced.”<br/>A small threat, but a threat nonetheless. Riorden glanced briskly at the corpse at Tygren’s feet and nodded. “I will not fail you, my liege,” he promised. Without another word to say to the Aide, the Voltaris stumbled out of the cave, beginning to amass a stealth force for the mission. The Aide nodded. That Sendaris would suffer for what he had forced him to do.<br/>Tygren turned back to Leon’s body, a sneer spreading. He had eliminated the sorcerer. Now, they had no reason to disobey him. They were too cowardly to challenge him. His will was iron, sharp as the sword on his back.<br/>Leon Voltaris. Another soulless face to be counted among the ones who tormented him, the ones he scorned. He had been wrong. For once, he had killed on his own accord. And that in itself freed him. From now on, that was all he would ever do.<br/>He was the Voltaris.<br/>He stared into the fire, its unpredictable warmth soothing his raw nerves. He swore he saw it morph into a gaping jaw, flames for teeth. He blinked, and it was gone, replaced by ashes crumbling from the charred wood to the floor.<br/>The beast had been unleashed, and it was ugly.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well… I gave Tygren schizophrenia (XD). I just thought it gave him reason enough to be the psychotic and terrifying murderer that he is in canon while still making him interesting and sort of a victim in a way. Well, as well as schizophrenia has been on my mind for years and years because of the original novel I’ve been planning since the eighth grade. Overall, this chapter was great for practice for that novel, so I really enjoyed writing this, as always.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Overwhelm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter music is “Far From Home (The Raven)” by Sam Tinnesz. I don’t usually pick music with lyrics to go with my chapters, but I thought the lyrics fit somewhat.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anxiety will overwhelm you, drown you, if you choose to submit your spirit to it.</p>
<p>Dusk was approaching, clouds floating scarce across the open sky, the stars obscured by the waning light. A breeze that would have sent shivers down any human’s spine twisted across the landscape, floating like a phantom through the mountainous hills of Northwind.<br/>
Thalleous hardly noticed, paying no heed to the cold. He rode, following the border between Northwind and Sendaria. Nature met stone abruptly, seeming to cut off life itself, meeting it at a stalemate, locked in mortal combat. The familiar crystal streams of Thalleous’ home territory ended in gnarled fists, fading into the ground. A thin grove of vegetation sprung up along the edge of the mountains, ample roots reaching out towards the trickling water to inhale the last of its moisture and thus distort the terrain as they jutted out of the ground.<br/>
The child woke a while later, the Champion noticed. He could feel him stirring from atop his back, his tiny fingers reaching curiously for a grip. The hand settled on one of Thalleous’ horns, glowing dimly in the darkness. He heard the child giggle once, a light sound that would’ve melted the hardest ice.<br/>
Thalleous gently jerked his head away, transitioning the child from his back to the crook of his arm, the small Ardoni making soft cooing noises as he tossed in the wrap and looked up at the Sendaris. Thalleous smiled. He was not willing to show annoyance to an infant. The child would simply not understand. How he envied that ignorance.<br/>
How was he to ensure a home for this child, when every moment was a waking reminder that his home had still not been found? At this moment, the child was here, with him. Nothing would change that...<br/>
Keep moving, he would always tell himself. Bring justice to those who deserve it, a recompense for his peace. A price to pay nonetheless, but he would have it no other way. The Voltaris… they had taken everything away from him. Now, nothing would replace the knot of hatred, slowly twisting itself until it was impossible to unravel.<br/>
It wasn’t always like this.<br/>
Thalleous’ heart skipped. He pulled on Ariadne’s mane, ceasing her canter. His terrified eyes scanned the vicinity for any sign of familiarity. That voice… sweet and clear. An ache he hadn’t felt in years began to creep back into his soul, drowning him in a relentless sorrow.<br/>
Tears stung his eyes, but he would not let them fall. “R—” he began to call out.<br/>
No. He could not speak her name. It would usher too many memories, too much heartbreak.<br/>
And still, her voice rang out the clearer.<br/>
You did not always hate, Thalleous. You had a heart to love, once.<br/>
Why was she tormenting him so? Why couldn’t he just be abandoned, left alone in his grief? What inane segment of his mind deceived him to cling onto her? He would not speak to someone he knew to be gone. He had endured to watch the light fade from her eyes, just as he had watched the child’s mother succumb to darkness. It was just a dream, a torturous nightmare.<br/>
He spoke regardless. “That man has died,” he whispered. The voice ceased, and Thalleous’ heart rent in two. He had not heard her voice since the times of the War. He could not forget it, but he had almost adapted to the numbness by now, even surrendered to it willingly had he not the strength to resist. There was so much left in him that craved revenge, and he would not rest until that revenge was his.<br/>
Or, so he believed.<br/>
But, why now? Why had it come to him in the depths of this journey, of all times? He couldn’t afford to stray from his objective. He had taken it upon himself to find the child a home. He couldn’t live to see himself fail once more.<br/>
Only, this time, he was alone. This time, there would be no one to lean against, no one to stop him from falling over this cliff of enmity.<br/>
No one was there for him, was there? Would anyone stoop to light his grave after he was gone? Could they even find a place for him to rest among those cold, distant lights, turning their brilliance elsewhere, their luminous faces dismayed? He did not know what awaited him in the heavens. He couldn’t believe there to be anything more than raging balls of plasma, streaked with fire, turning into themselves to implode in a mass of stringent, smelted swelter. Blue, an impression of his markings? On the contrary. For when he looked up into the stars, he did not see white. Rather, he envisioned a piercing red, tearing him limb from limb. Under their gaze, he would not be able to hide his wicked deeds.<br/>
A noise broke him out of his trances, startling him a tad as he snapped back to attention, only noticing now how far forward he had been leaning against Ariadne’s broad neck. He looked down and watched the child with a scrupulous eye.<br/>
The clanless child’s entire body shook with an intensity, his small chest heaving large breaths that would’ve surely filled his premature lungs. And there was something else. Small squeaks of breath forcing themselves out of the infant’s mouth. Coughing. It sounded terrible, like a rattling bark that he would have expected to come from an old man choking for oxygen, almost metallic. It shook him to his core. What could the child possibly have contracted on the road? Was it the dust? The cold? Possibly a traveler passed something on to him? Oh stars, if he had done something wrong...<br/>
Whatever it was, Thalleous could not help but feel the nagging growing in his chest. What if he had caused this? One slip-up, one mistake… he didn’t know how to raise him.<br/>
No. That did not matter right now. He needed to get the child to someone who could see to his condition properly. With nothing else to resort to, Thalleous held him tighter against his chest as he felt the small Ardoni shiver and labor for breath.<br/>
Panic gnawed at his insides. He balked at the unfamiliar feeling. He was a warrior, a Champion, expected to uphold the values built upon centuries past. He wasn’t a father, much less this child’s father. He was helpless.<br/>
The Sendaris urged Ariadne into a cautious gallop, the mare nickering in a wordless response. The animal had always been sensitive to her rider’s emotions, and now she trod a one-way path to what he hoped would be a sanctuary.<br/>
Thalleous began to chastise himself as his mind wandered, his breaths quickening. Why had he favored the less-traveled road? Granted, he rather enjoyed the solitude, but now he greatly regretted his decisions. What came as second nature to him were several leaps into unknown territory for this young Ardoni. Was he able to point out his flaws? Did he blame him for all the blunders?<br/>
He tilted his head up to gaze at the stars, wondering just how ridiculous he must look to their radiant faces. What did they think looking down at him? Was he small to them? Were they even there to witness this? What would the child’s mother have thought?<br/>
She was there, eternally resting in those sparkling heavens. She had to be. And so were all the others he had lost. He wouldn’t argue with himself any longer. Lying was a fool’s path, but he had been a fool before.<br/>
The sound of Ariadne’s hooves became more than a distant clamber as the ground beneath them morphed from vast wildgrasses to the chunks of gravel, biting and rolling. They were nearing a light, coming from what Thalleous could only make out to be an oil lamp. Good. There were at least a few to aid them at this late hour.<br/>
The glows of candles and lanterns gradually illuminated a nook of a town, cradled within a nebulous mist. It only took Ariadne a short yet agonizing minute to reach it, plodding through the fog towards a post. The Sendaris dismounted and held the child, shielding him from the brisk night air. At the urging of the clanless Ardoni’s wracking coughs, he made for the closest dwelling.<br/>
“Is there a healer present?” Thalleous called out. “I have a child, he has fallen ill!”<br/>
“What in the name of…” a gruff voice rumbled. “It’s the middle of the night, man!”<br/>
“Please!”<br/>
The door of a second house opened. A small child stepped out from the dwelling: a small girl, dressed in a white nightgown, messy chestnut-brown locks framing her fair face. Her eyes grew larger at the sight of the Sendaris. “Ardoni…” she breathed, in awe. “Are you okay?”<br/>
Thalleous looked at her, dumbfounded. “This young one is sick,” he said, holding the infant out in her direction.<br/>
She smiled as she caught sight of him. “A baby!” she exclaimed.<br/>
“Is there a healer that could care for him?” he asked, softening his tone in front of the young girl.<br/>
She nodded, pointing towards a house. “He lives in that one there,” she said. Thalleous exhaled, grateful that there was a healer after all in this small settlement. He rushed to the house, knocking on its door. No lights shone inside, which unsettled him. “Does a healer live here?” he yelled.<br/>
“Don’t haveta shout, I can hear you fine.” The voice soared through the cold night air as the door opened. A human trudged through its frame. He wore a worn vest over a white nightshirt creased with bed wrinkles, dark brown hair disheveled, obscuring his eyes slightly. When he noticed the Ardoni standing in front of him, he blinked, eyeing the Champion’s greatsword warily.<br/>
Thalleous didn’t seem to catch the human’s apprehension. “This child is sick. I am told you are the healer in this town? I-I was journeying to Kaltaria—”<br/>
“Okay. Y’know, as much as I wanna help, you’re gonna have to slow down for me. I just got up,” the human slurred, rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes ruefully. “You got a sick person with you?”<br/>
“This child,” Thalleous repeated.<br/>
The healer held out a hand. “I can work with that. What’s he got?”<br/>
“I-is that not your job?” Thalleous said.<br/>
The human blustered. “W-well, yes, but I need a little more than just a few words to come to a conclusion.” He stepped away from the Sendaris, allowing a path for him. “Come on in, I can take a look at ‘im.”<br/>
Thalleous entered the house quickly, the healer shutting the door behind them, barring the rigid air from entering. The main room was small but well-lit, littered with various human items, with a conjoining room near the back and a door leading to a field behind the house.<br/>
The human stood in front of the Sendaris, waiting a moment. “I can’t treat him unless you hand him to me,” he continued with a rather nonchalant tone that Thalleous didn’t care much for. It took a second for him to realize how much he was hoarding the child.<br/>
“O-of course.” Sighing, he handed the baby over. The child let out a small cry of anxiety, reaching for the Sendaris as the healer brought him towards a center worktable. The human, however, made a sore attempt at calming him, talking softly and casually. “It won’t be for more than a moment,” he told him. Thalleous flushed at the sight of the healer’s competence with the child. Even if it did little to console the young one, he wasn’t panicking.<br/>
The human set the child on the worktable, helping him sit up as he probed the tiny Ardoni’s chest with a finger. The child coughed once, and the healer bit his lip. “Coughing, that rules some things out. Did you notice any other symptoms?”<br/>
It was a moment before Thalleous realized he was speaking to him. “I… believe he was shivering.”<br/>
The healer nodded. “I’d rule out that was just the cold, seeing as he ain’t shivering now. Don’t see nothin’ else…” There was a tense pause.<br/>
The Ardoni sighed, having grown impatient by the silence. It did nothing to quell his unease. “Well?” he prompted.<br/>
“Sir.” The man chuckled, turning towards Thalleous. “Relax. I don’t know what you think he has, but it ain’t lethal or anything.”<br/>
“Whatever do you mean?” Thalleous asked, attempting to keep his annoyance at bay. Why couldn’t this healer get to the point?! “What is wrong with him?”<br/>
“He has croup,” the healer confirmed. “It’s rather common in infants. It’s a simple respiratory illness that can be cured with a little moist air.”<br/>
Thalleous blinked, not quite comprehending. “I—” He cleared his throat. “So that means he will not suffer?”<br/>
“Certainly not.”<br/>
A wash of relief struck the Sendaris, and he exhaled, dry-washing his face with a hand. He mentally rebuked himself for being such a nervous wreck.<br/>
With a jolt, he remembered the human’s presence and turned back to him. “I… apologize for the trouble I have been,” he began.<br/>
“It’s no trouble,” the healer responded, immediately setting to work, leaving the child alone on the table for a moment as he lifted a cauldron from a corner of the room. “I’m Baruk, if we’re doing introductions now.”<br/>
Thalleous took the cue after a moment and raised his hand. “Thalleous Sendaris,” he said.<br/>
Baruk’s eyes flicked towards the ceiling after setting the cauldron down. “Thalleous…” He looked back at the Ardoni and pointed a finger at him. “Recognize that name,” he said. “Even without it, I’d have figured you were someone important by that sword.” He nodded towards the diamond greatsword fixed on Thalleous’ back. “Enchanted weapons go to the greatest of warriors only.”<br/>
“Fair enough,” Thalleous relented.<br/>
“You were in the, uh... the Great War, right?” Baruk asked, making for the other room and disappeared behind a wall, muffling his voice.<br/>
“You are correct,” the Sendaris answered.<br/>
Baruk reappeared a few moments later and nodded. “Right... that kind of stuff hardly bothers us up here in our little corner, really.” Turning back to his patient, he changed the subject. “What’s his?”<br/>
“I’m sorry?”<br/>
“The kid’s name,” Baruk clarified.<br/>
Thalleous looked at the child, who sat letting out a cough and reaching for his toes. “H-he…” He thought for a moment. There would be no harm in telling this human the truth, but it was far too sophisticated to disclose completely. “He has no name,” the Sendaris said quickly.<br/>
“Huh. Fascinating.” The healer turned to the infant. “Ain’t that a shame, huh, little guy?” he cooed, tapping the child on the nose lightly, surprisingly eliciting no reaction. A cry of a kettle rang out, and Baruk ran off with the cauldron in arms, returning with it filled to the brim with hot water.<br/>
The room fell into a contemplative silence, for which Thalleous was grateful. He had been beginning to wonder if the human even knew how to carry on without conversing. The steam from the cauldron hung over their heads, sticking to their skin. After a few minutes, Baruk lifted the child in his arms, waiting until the moist air would clear his lungs. The coughs and hacks subsided, much to his relief. Thalleous’ heart tugged when the infant began to cry.<br/>
The human caught on, turning to the Sendaris. “He probably feels safer with you,” he said, holding the child out towards him. Thalleous took him, and the child coughed once but ended his fussing, his small fingers reaching and touching the older’s face. “He will recover?” he asked the healer.<br/>
Baruk shrugged. “Seems about so.”<br/>
“I presume I should compensate for your assistance,” the Champion said.<br/>
“I guess it’s only appropriate,” Baruk replied, watching as the Ardoni fisted a handful of gold coins, dropping them into the human’s hand.<br/>
“Pleasure doin’ business with ya,” Baruk said. Thalleous nodded but said nothing as he wrapped the child in his blanket. “He sure is a cute one, ain’t he?” the healer commented, watching as the child focused his inquisitive white eyes on the Champion’s face. Thalleous nodded and began to make for the door.<br/>
Suddenly, Baruk stopped him. “Y’know, if it’s all the same to you, it’d be best if you don’t bring him back out there until we know he won’t get sick again. Nights get pretty cold up here.”<br/>
The Ardoni stood silent for a moment. He would prefer to reach Kaltaria as soon as possible. But he also didn’t want another disaster to befall the child. It had already been a close enough call as it was.<br/>
“Where might we stay?” Thalleous asked the human.<br/>
Baruk threw his hands up. “I have a bed here, if that suits you.”<br/>
Thalleous sighed. “I do not sleep much, but if it would render the child safer…”<br/>
The human grinned, shrugging. “You’re welcome, then,” he said. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, if you’re able. Apologies, I don’t know a whole lot about what you all would want.”<br/>
“This is fine. We will depart come sunrise,” Thalleous answered quickly. The human nodded, then his face lit up. He procured a blanket and spread it across the floor, then made his way back to the Champion. “Here, hand me the kid, I got an idea.”<br/>
Thalleous raised an eyebrow but wasn’t disquieted by Baruk’s intentions. The human lifted the child once again and set him down on the blanket on his stomach. The child stretched his arms out and grasped the material.<br/>
Baruk flashed a curious look at the Sendaris. “You can sit, if you like,” he said, waving his hand towards a chair. Thalleous obliged, exhaling as he took a seat and set his sword down against a nearby wall, rolling his aching shoulders in an attempt to make himself more comfortable.<br/>
“Trust me, he’ll like it better like this,” Baruk assured him, ruffling the infant’s hair slightly as he straightened up again. “Now where did I put those toys…” the human mused to himself, shuffling over to a drawer and pulling out various odds and ends. He let out an “aha” as he grasped what Thalleous could only distinguish as a rattle. The handle was decorated with teeth marks, a telltale sign of a former child in their teething stages. It was connected to a wooden sphere, shaved acacia to avoid splinters. Baruk shook it slightly, small noises coming from the object.<br/>
“There are flax seeds inside,” he explained. “Provides some stimulation.” Baruk leaned down and placed the rattle next to the child. The clanless Ardoni stuck his tongue out, reaching for the toy and fingering its smooth surfaces. He didn’t seem entertained, however, in the rattle, casting it away after a moment’s consideration.<br/>
“Well, that was interesting,” Baruk commented, then turned away to the worktable and pulled out cloth and a knife from a drawer, cutting the cloth into strips. Thalleous deducted he was cutting up bandages. He must’ve had a low supply.<br/>
Turning back to the child on the floor, the Champion rubbed his chin, watching as the baby thrashed and squealed happily, coughing every so often but content in his position. At one point, he managed to push himself onto his back, and he began to cry, but at a nudge from Baruk, he was positioned onto his stomach again and laughed. Thalleous smiled. He hadn’t heard the child laugh in a while.<br/>
“First-time father, eh, buddy?”<br/>
Thalleous looked up, rather flustered. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”<br/>
Baruk jerked a thumb in the child’s direction. Thalleous’ eyebrows raised as he understood what he had just said. “Oh, n-no, he is not mine,” the Sendaris quickly brushed off.<br/>
The healer just shrugged, turning back to his work. “Never would’ve guessed,” he said. “Y’know, when my nephew was born, my brother would fuss over him nonstop, almost like one of them hens over her chicks. He gave me splits in my sides from watching him, let me tell you. But I suppose that’s all parents.”<br/>
Thalleous nodded, not sure how else to respond. He felt rather out of place as the human spoke to him, as if he knew any of what it was like to be a parent. He didn’t. At least, not officially.<br/>
“You seem to know how to take care of him well enough,” Baruk commented.<br/>
Thalleous scoffed, shaking his head as he turned back to the infant. “I… do not know anything,” he said.<br/>
Baruk only shrugged. “No one does,” he interjected. The Sendaris looked up at him, but he had already turned away.<br/>
There was a sound at the back door. Thalleous reached for his sword as the door fell ajar. Baruk sighed, a rather unexpected reaction, mumbling something about “not having this again.” He attempted to close the door, only for it to be pushed open by…<br/>
...a duck?<br/>
A cacophony of small noises accompanied the bird. Behind her, several small ducklings waddled on oversized webbed feet. A smaller one flapped its premature wings and attempted to ride a larger duckling. They followed their mother through the doorway in a swarm of fluff and feathers.<br/>
Thalleous almost laughed, releasing his grip on the handle of his sword. The creatures resembled palm-sized tufts of fuzz on legs. It was rather amusing.<br/>
Baruk, on the other hand, let out a huff of annoyance. “That blasted pigeon,” he said as he made for the gaggle.<br/>
“Am I mistaken, or isn’t that a duck?” Thalleous asked.<br/>
“I know what it is,” the healer retorted, picking up the mother and thrusting her out the open back door. He received some angry calls and a flapping of wings as a response, feathers flying. Baruk sighed heavily. “Nutty story, I see some ducks settled on the pond out back a month or so ago, so I let ‘em stay for a while, might even have let my nephews take some bread out there to feed ‘em.”<br/>
With no hesitation, the mother duck strode back into the house. “Then one day I see that they’ve made more of ‘em, and they just infest the house!” Baruk pointed at the adult. “That one, though. Carries herself like a swan when she has the attitude of a goose, let me tell ya. It’s maddening.” He bent down. “But it’s not like she’d care to hear what I have to say!” he yelled. The bird simply looked at him and quacked, unfazed. Baruk scoffed and stood up straight.<br/>
“Surely they don’t mean harm,” the Sendaris defended as a duckling teetered its way towards the child on the floor, the infant’s white eyes going wide. He reached a hand out towards the animal and let out a pouting noise, the duckling taking a step back as if alarmed.<br/>
“You Ardoni just don’t understand… no offense intended, of course,” Baruk replied. Thalleous took his eyes off the infant for a moment to look at the healer. “Animals just don’t belong in houses. Not wild ones, anyway.” The human’s brown eyes turned back to the child and widened. “Um…” He pointed.<br/>
Thalleous looked back at the clanless Ardoni, only to find him sitting on the floor, two webbed feet sticking out of his mouth, attempting to shove the rest of the duckling in. “Heavens, don’t eat that!” Thalleous exclaimed, rather appalled at the sight of the child, mouth full of feather and sinew. When the infant remained noncompliant, the Champion reached for him and lifted the child below his arms, tapping his back gently, hoping that it would evoke a response. After a moment, the child spat out the duckling, the poor animal cheeping frantically and wobbling on its webbed feet, down damp.<br/>
Baruk watched this all occur with an agape mouth, finally letting out a sharp laugh. “Did that really just happen? Hah, never would’ve thought I’d see something like that. Maybe the little guy’s hungry?”<br/>
Thalleous allowed himself to chuckle once. “We may never know,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at the child, who turned towards the Sendaris and gummed his fist, coughing once and grinning.<br/>
The healer turned his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, what’s up over there?” The Sendaris followed his eyes towards the window of the house.<br/>
A raven, its plumage a glossy luster, perched in the sill, studying Thalleous with a perceptive eye of amber as he stood. A memory itched in the back of his mind, whisking him back to a time he had seen one such bird. An aviary, floating islands orbiting the perch, golden sunlight streaming through the thickening vines and corded bridges connecting the scattered terrain. Ravens settling, claws digging into their roosts, awaiting instruction from a voice that seldom spoke.<br/>
Baruk wiped his palms on his breeches, looking to the Sendaris. “That ain’t one of them messenger birds, is it?”<br/>
Thalleous sighed. “The title of ‘messenger bird’ is reserved for fowl of utmost responsibility and skill. This is merely a scout, a sentry of sorts, assigned to watch and wait for direction.”<br/>
Thalleous recoiled as a thought entered his mind. Had he sent this as a message?<br/>
He knew all too well that his brother seldom bothered to care about the Champion’s wellbeing. Why would he? They had not parted on the best of terms last. No, not Galleous, the brother who never stepped beyond his boundaries of ease, the brother who cared for none but himself, the brother who berated him about his “abuse of Songs” and their “corruptive nature.” Oh, how he still remembered their screams, their ramblings over pointless matters, the dispute that had very nearly ended in a brawl… his lack of control as his Aggressium took over, sending the last of his family hurtling against the wall.<br/>
He recounted the guilt. He hadn’t even stayed long enough to ensure that he was alright or not, instead resorting to running from his troubles, pursuing half-forsaken dreams, tearing away from the net of approaching doom. Thalleous had not heard from his brother since.<br/>
Until now, that was.<br/>
As much as he loathed the Hidden City, he was unable to avoid the truth that it had been founded for innocents such as the child. Perhaps this was the right course of action after all. An inquiry, at the very least, was the least Galleous could do. The clans would not accept him anyway, would they?<br/>
The Sendaris outstretched his hand towards the bird. It cocked its head in response and shook, ruffling its feathers. It stood on the sill, seemingly too coy to enter. Thalleous approached, but it did not flee. He was not his brother, but the raven must have carried some sense of familiarity to him. He did share the same markings as him, after all.<br/>
The Ardoni turned to Baruk as an idea kindled. “Do you have writing materials on hand?” he inquired.<br/>
“Well, yes,” the human replied, fishing out various odds and ends from drawers at his desk. He handed the Sendaris a piece of paper and a pen, rather small in the Ardoni’s large hand. “But whaddya need ‘em for?”<br/>
Thalleous said nothing as he began to write on the parchment, the ink smearing slightly as his hand slid across the page, the rigid letters seeming to disappear beneath ripples of dark stains. Ardoni did not write much as it was, leading many to render it sloppy and inexperienced.<br/>
The healer, on the other hand, attempted to peer over the larger’s shoulder, curious as to what he could possibly be writing. After a minute, Thalleous lifted the paper, gingerly folded it so as not to tear it, and pursed his lips. To the human’s surprise and slight disgust, a drop of saliva gathered on the page as the Sendaris sealed the letter. “Glues it together rather efficiently,” he explained as the ends of the paper stuck together.<br/>
Baruk shrugged. “Whatever works for you,” he dismissed. The Champion gave him a look, but it was gone in another moment. Thalleous turned back to his task, clearing a path for himself past the child still rolling on the floor and back towards the window. The raven still stood, its beak leaning towards the Sendaris as if expecting something.<br/>
With no other task to perform, Thalleous stretched his hand towards the bird and held out the letter. The raven grasped it with a talon and flapped its wings, taking off southward.<br/>
“With any luck, it should send for a formal reply,” he said.<br/>
“You know who he’s taking it to?” Baruk asked.<br/>
Thalleous watched as the raven disappeared out over the horizon, lost in darkness. “All too well.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Nativity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter music: “Lost” by HOENIX. The vocals and tone match a few of the scenes as wonderfully as I’d imagine possible.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When a child is born, it is the beginning of a new life, a nativity. But who benefits more: the one who is born, or the man who becomes a father, the woman who becomes a mother, the child who becomes a sibling?</p><p>	Thalleous Sendaris found his way across desolate territory, the smell of pine carried along the mist as it crept over the rocks. The mountains stood like frozen behemoths, eternally locked in a stalemate. Tendriled branches stretched to the sky like a child asking to be carried, the cold rains providing sustenance and comfort to the land as it crystallized and formed the faintest of snow, dusting the stones with ice. Cold was far better than a rushing fire, burning its way through the green, destroying the needles of forest trees much like a night not long before this.<br/>
He remembered it clearly, the last time he was here. The time since the attack had already spanned a century, yet it was only as distant as a memory. Thalleous remembered the ravage and desolation that had been brought upon this land, as homes were adorned in flame and lives were lost to the blade of a famed firebrand. Former keepers of the Supporium Prime were they, and they had paid for it with their lives. A heavy cost. All other knowledge had either left this world with its keepers or was never spoken of again by those who had survived the tragedy.<br/>
Oh, how he remembered the wails of the Kaltaris as they stood over their fallen kindred, lying in their own cold blood, tainting the rocks with the stench of death. An unhinged massacre had befallen them with no warning, for they had been the first to be attacked. The then-young Sendaris had stood beside a good friend from youth, Quirinius Kaltaris, as he mourned for their dead Master. His hand rested on his friend’s shoulder, supplying comfort that was fleeting at best, illusory at worst.<br/>
The Champion could feel the child curl in on himself, swaddled in the cloth tied to his back. The sooner they could escape the cold, the better, he discerned. Even as he thought that, a cascade of pebbles fell from a high hill face to Thalleous’ right, settling under Ariadne’s hooves. He stilled the horse at his side—he had walked this short distance to allow her some rest—and looked up, a grin spreading on his face.<br/>
An Ardoni stood before Thalleous, some distance away yet, his bright markings seemingly absorbing the colors of the pines. His dark hair was longer, tied with string in a mess falling against the nape of his neck. His face was slightly sallow and thin, as if some deep sadness plagued him, but it did not overwhelm the joy that glimmered in his eyes. The Kaltaris climbed down the face with surprising ease, fingers and toes wedged into cramped cracks in the stone. He landed in front of the Sendaris and took long strides towards him. “Unless my eyes have been cheated, I surmise that Thalleous Sendaris is approaching,” the Kaltaris said.<br/>
Thalleous chuckled quietly. “I doubt any spell could feign my presence,” he called out to the approaching Ardoni. The two met in a rough embrace. “It’s been too long, Quirinius,” Thalleous said as he pulled away.<br/>
Quirinius nodded his head. “Can’t a fellow Ardoni spare time for a visit every century?” The Kaltaris studied Thalleous with scrutiny. “Age has carried you far, my friend.”<br/>
“No farther than it has you,” Thalleous replied briskly. Quirinius grinned and clapped a hand on the Sendaris’ shoulder.<br/>
“I received your message,” Quirinius said, casting a glance at Thalleous’ back. His eyebrows raised as he caught sight of the child. “Never would’ve taken you for a delivery boy,” he joked.<br/>
Thalleous grinned. “You are absurd sometimes.”<br/>
“That I will not quarrel with you over,” Quirinius dismissed, setting off with the Sendaris. “We welcome you back to Kaltaria. My home is not far from here, you may stay with us.”<br/>
“I thank you,” Thalleous replied, nodding his head once.<br/>
Quirinius turned back to him, smiling as they continued up the rocky path. “So… what has changed in the life of our Champion?”<br/>
Thalleous exhaled, thinking about it for a moment. “It is hardly as exciting these days, not when compared to the War. I merely hunt remaining Voltaris, as all Champions before myself have done.”<br/>
“Mm.” Quirinius nodded, brushing off the answer quickly. “Then how does the boy fit into all this?”<br/>
“I would prefer to wait to answer that when I convene with your Master,” Thalleous replied.<br/>
“I understand.” The Kaltaris continued on his way, guiding his friend up a rocky slope, the only sound the crunching of the dry needles and twigs under their feet.<br/>
The home seemed to be carved within the hollowed trunks of two large spruce trees, providing a rich smell of nature inside. The interior was well-furnished, the indication of the dwelling of a prosperous family. Many rooms lay just out of sight as the floor sloped into the ground layer. A stream ran beyond their line of vision inside the arms of a valley, the numerous conifers shadowing the cool water.<br/>
“Come inside,” Quirinius said. “Make yourself comfortable.” Thalleous nodded and moved to a chair, the clanless child stirring. He undid the wrap and moved the child into his arms, setting him down on the ground.<br/>
A figure appeared in the entrance. Thalleous turned his eyes towards them. There stood a boy. He was lean and tall, not too far from the age of maturity for Ardoni, yet still a ways to go. Dark hair wrapped around his face in an earthy mess of loose hair and braids.<br/>
“K-Ky’Thalleous!” the young Kaltaris exclaimed, visibly stiffening. “We did not expect your arrival until, well, later in the day.”<br/>
Quirinius came to stand by him. “Ah, there you are. Thalleous…” He rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders and smiled. “This is my son, Zulius.”<br/>
The adolescent resembled Quirinius, however was much more youthful in expression and posture. His markings shone like brilliant emeralds reflecting a sun’s first morning rays. Thalleous smiled at him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Zulius.”<br/>
“It is for me, too,” Zulius replied, fixing Thalleous with a curious stare. “I’ve never met a Champion before. Father has told me so much about you. Did you really fight in the Great War?”<br/>
“Let us not bother the poor man with questions just yet, Zulius,” a voice called out from a room farther in the house. Another Kaltaris appeared from behind a corner. She was tall and strong in form, her dark hair hanging in curls on one side, framing her face beautifully. “No doubt he is fatigued after a long journey.”<br/>
“You are already acquainted with Veada,” Quirinius said, gesturing to her. Thalleous nodded. The last time he had been to Kaltaria, the two had been courting.<br/>
“It is good to see you again, Thalleous,” Veada greeted.<br/>
“You as well, Veada,” Thalleous responded, bowing his head towards her. As the other ascended into the meeting room, however, he was taken by a rather pleasant surprise. Her middle extended far out in front of her, her skin taut and pale.<br/>
She was pregnant.<br/>
Veada appeared unfazed, however, still as strong as he had known her. She bent down towards the young Ardoni on the floor and smiled brightly. “So this is the little one we’ve heard so much about.”<br/>
Before Thalleous could finish a protest, she lifted the child in her arms. “I really don’t think…” But his attempt was waved off.<br/>
She gazed into the child’s white eyes, balancing him on her hip.“Aren’t you a sweet one?” . The clanless child didn’t seem to mind, tangling his little fingers in her thick hair, a smile spreading across his face. Veada smiled back, then turned to Thalleous. “How long have you been caring for him?”<br/>
The Champion had to think for a moment about that. “It appears to have been a month or so now.”<br/>
She nodded, examining the child a bit longer. “He appears to be on the cusp of handling more hearty foods,” Veada said. “But I wouldn’t rush him. He may also sleep less throughout the day, but that will allow you more restful nights.”<br/>
“That would be nice,” Thalleous admitted, though he refrained from revealing his increasing sleep troubles. There was no need.<br/>
Veada held the child at arm’s length once again, handing him back to the Sendaris. “Wherever did you find him?”<br/>
Thalleous laughed as he placed him on the ground at his feet. “A long story,” he began. “Perhaps I will share it at a more convenient time.”<br/>
Zulius looked slightly up at him, smiling. “I would love to hear it.”<br/>
“Let us discuss it after a meal, shall we?” Veada interrupted, setting to work preparing food for the newcomers.<br/>
Within a half hour, the two were supplied with respective foods, the child playing with it between his fingers and licking the sticky substances off of the digits.<br/>
The Sendaris watched Veada as she seemed to float from place to place, only stopping every so often to massage her back. “You seem to be faring well despite your… s-state,” Thalleous stammered, not sure how to address her condition without it sounding awkward.<br/>
She laughed. “I would be doing more if he didn’t hound me night and day about it.” She waved a hand at her partner, who only grinned, making his way over to her side.<br/>
“Don’t believe a word she tells you,” Quirinius advised. “I try to be helpful, and all she does is complain.”<br/>
“Only because you would rather treat me like a child due to my state,” she reminded him.<br/>
The Kaltaris wrapped an arm around his partner’s waist and held her close, planting a quick kiss on her temple. “And why shouldn’t I be allowed to flatter you, my dear?”<br/>
Veada smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I never said that,” she asserted.<br/>
Thalleous watched the two with somber eyes, unnoticed by the Kaltaris. A nagging feeling returned to him, a life long gone flashing before him. An overwhelming sadness accompanied it. A family he always wanted, a family never to be.<br/>
His train of thought halted abruptly as a light voice called his name. “Ky’Thalleous?” The Sendaris turned and found Zulius staring at him. The boy was smiling as he retrieved an iron staff. It sported three thin curved blades extending in both directions from the handle. The ends appeared to be blunted to prevent the young Ardoni from hurting himself, no doubt. “Could we train now?”<br/>
The young Kaltaris was confident, Thalleous concluded. They had hardly known each other until today, yet Zulius was not afraid to ask for proper guidance when the opportunity arose. He seized it without fear, a quality that endeared the Sendaris.<br/>
“My expertise is not in the staff, Zulius.”<br/>
Veada tutted at the look of disappointment briefly passing across her son’s face and lifted his face upwards, giving him a loving smile. Thalleous smiled as well. “However, a little sparring would do the both of us some good,” he admitted.<br/>
Zulius beamed at that, rushing immediately to the home’s entrance and lifting a light training sword from a shelf.<br/>
“Do be careful, Zulius,” Veada called out to her son.<br/>
“We will, mother,” the young Ardoni reassured her, beckoning for Thalleous to follow as he sped towards the field. The Sendaris pulled back, looking at the child sitting on the floor, then at Veada. “Will you watch over him?”<br/>
The Kaltaris nodded. “Of course,” she said. Thalleous nodded back as a thank-you and then followed Zulius out and into the mist.<br/>
Veada smiled to herself as she turned back to her work. The enthusiasm that her son carried when it came to sparring was quite unmatched in other Kaltaris his age, and she was proud of him for it. But he had learned to not test the boundaries his mother set upon him.<br/>
The duo did not return until several hours later, both visibly disheveled but beaming with joy. “Elation suits you well, my friend,” Quirinius called out jokingly to Thalleous. “You should try it out more often.”<br/>
Thalleous chuckled. “Your son here has quite the trained hand,” he replied. “Have you been teaching him?”<br/>
“When I can.”<br/>
“They’re always at it, those two,” Veada said through a smile. “I couldn’t stop them even if I tried.”<br/>
The Sendaris set his training weapon down next to Zulius’ spear, resting in a chair. The clanless child smiled up at him. Quirinius made his way over to the Champion. “I requested a meeting with Silus during your absence, he will summon us when he is ready to hear your message.”<br/>
Silus, the Master of the Kaltaris, was known for being silent, always preferring formality over commonality. Thalleous did not know him very well personally, but then again, few did.<br/>
Thalleous nodded in response. “Thank you, Quirinius,” he said, looking down at the child sitting on the ground. “I take it he was not too much trouble?”<br/>
“None at all,” Veada said, a smile in her voice. “He is very easy going. A happy child.”<br/>
“He is, indeed,” Thalleous agreed. “I am fortunate enough, it seems.”<br/>
She nodded, placing a hand over her large belly, her face somber. “All children are different. But we love them still.”<br/>
Quirinius stood in front of Thalleous. “Why don’t you get some rest, my friend?”<br/>
“I will,” he replied, looking down at the child. “But he will stay with me.”<br/>
Veada nodded, her eyes full of unspoken knowledge. “It is best he is with you,” she said, winking. “Although you don’t have much experience in raising such small creatures, I can tell he trusts you.”<br/>
Thalleous lifted the child in his arms, watching as the small Ardoni shoved a fist into his mouth and gummed it playfully. You can trust me, a voice in his head spoke to the young one. Had it been his own? The Sendaris couldn’t tell.<br/>
But somehow he knew, nothing could separate them.</p><p>Thalleous looked back upon his meeting with Silus with no quantity of fondness. It had been simple and straightforward, however. He had listened to the plea well.<br/>
“I can supply a request throughout the province if any families will take him, but it will be at least a day or so before we hear any word back—”<br/>
“That will do,” Thalleous had dismissed. He already trusted the Kaltaris more in these matters than he ever would with the Nestoris. They would ensure that the job was completed, more so than any clan he had come to acquaint himself with. Perhaps apart from the Voltaris, though those who knew the Champion had learned to never question his “relations” with the exiled Ardoni. Such a taxing occupation required sufficient ulterior motives of its enforcers, after all—often enough, dark, unspoken motives…<br/>
The Sendaris only hoped that this quest would end soon, that the child would be safe in the hands of a family willing to take him.</p><p>	The pain had presented itself in the early watches of the morning, not unbearable but certainly refusing to go unnoticed. Veada began to find it more taxing than usual to carry out her morning tasks. She tried to push the pain out of her mind, but it would not leave. Perhaps if she distracted herself, she could endure it for just a little longer.<br/>
The Kaltaris’ experienced eyes scanned the home and noticed the empty water bucket against the doorway. She bent over to retrieve it. Quirinius would not be pleased if he caught her. She would have to be quick.<br/>
She soon found herself shaking as she traveled down the slope to the stream, her knees struggling to withstand her weight. Vise-like pain gripped her middle, and she bit back a whimper. She pressed a hand against her stomach and let out a slow, shaky breath. The Kaltaris quickly sent a prayer to the heavens for mercy.<br/>
She reached the stream in no small amount of time. With a trembling hand, Veada lowered the bucket into the icy water and let it fill, almost crying out from the weight of its contents as she held it up. Gritting her teeth, she locked her arm and began to haul it up the hill again.<br/>
Another wave of pain crashed through her, and she froze, keeling over. She held her breath for only a moment, forcibly releasing it and sucking in another. It wouldn’t be long now. She knew it.<br/>
The Kaltaris was halfway through the climb when she heard a voice above her. “Veada?” Through blurry vision, she saw Quirinius staring down at her.<br/>
He rushed to her side, firmly prying the bucket handle out of her stiff, cold fingers and setting it down. “I thought we had agreed you would refrain from heavy lifting until after the birth.”<br/>
She closed her eyes, panting, a part of her glad he was not mad about it.“The… water… needed to be... resupplied.”<br/>
“I could have taken care of that later,” he replied, gripping her arm to support her. “Why didn’t you wait?”<br/>
“Less… time now.” Veada grit her teeth, nearly collapsing. Quirinius immediately threw his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into him.<br/>
She looked into his fearful eyes and smiled, though it was strained. “There’s no time to waste,” she said. “Take me to Corinna, we’ve braved this before.”<br/>
He began to walk forward slowly, waiting for her as she took small, shuffling steps. “I fear the outcome might be different this time,” he mumbled.<br/>
Veada touched his face, shaking her head. “Fear only what you can control, Quirinius,” she told him. She fell silent, putting all of her strength into enduring the increasing pain. It was only going to get worse from now on.</p><p>Thalleous glanced around at the dozens of Kaltaris crowded several paces from the opening of the cave. It seemed that the entire clan was here. He spotted a familiar Kaltaris and reached him within moments. “Quirinius, what is going on?”<br/>
Quirinius turned to him. “You have not heard?”<br/>
The Champion shook his head in response. “What is happening?” he asked.<br/>
“Veada labors, Thalleous,” Quirinius said. “The first signs came early morning.”<br/>
“And where is she now?”<br/>
“In the cave. The others are with her.” Thalleous nodded after a moment of ponder. It was Ardoni custom that all the females would gather together to witness and help with the birth while the rest of the clan waited expectantly for news. He felt it now, the placid anticipation thick in the air, a fog weighing down their spirits, quieting the atmosphere to a hush. He could hear a light breeze brushing through the pines.<br/>
“How much longer?”<br/>
“I don’t anticipate it to be much longer, at most a few hours.” Quirinius sighed, suddenly somber. He opened his mouth to say something but soon closed it again.<br/>
Thalleous frowned, not failing to notice the tenseness in the other’s shoulders. “Tell me what is wrong, my friend.”<br/>
The Kaltaris spoke slowly, almost as if he were hesitating. “This… this is our sixth, Thalleous. I fear for Veada… and the child, I—” Quirinius closed his fear-filled eyes, exhaling out his nose. “Zulius is our first to have survived past his thirties, and the birthing process has always been more taxing on Veada than most. I fear I could not bear to lose them both.” Tears smarted in Quirinius’ eyes, and he looked down, quickly wiping them away with a thumb.<br/>
Thalleous’ face lit up in understanding. He hadn't even realized just how much Quirinius had suffered in the time he had been gone. Was this why the Kaltaris always looked as if he never got enough sleep at night, his face lined in creases of worry, frozen tight in some grip of anxiety, living in the fear of losing the only ones left he loved?<br/>
His friend was afraid. He knew the feeling well. But how was he supposed to respond? Not knowing what else to do, he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Veada has a strong soul, Quirinius. You have faced much, and you have done so together. She will not leave you now.”<br/>
Quirinius looked up at the Sendaris and smiled sadly. “You speak wise words, Thalleous. I will ponder them.”<br/>
“Well, let us ponder them elsewhere,” Thalleous said. “If there is some effort yet to be made, we have some time to spare.” He beckoned for Quirinius to follow, knowing that the change of scenery would likely do him good. The Kaltaris looked back at the light in the cave one last time before nodding and following.</p><p>The pain was like a sea, encapsulating her, stealing her breath. She swam in the immense misery, familiar but still unwelcome, as if she were greeting an ill acquaintance. She couldn’t think straight. Her emotions blazed like a wildfire inside her head. Soothing voices hovered like distant fumes. A weak wail echoed around her. Had it come from her? She couldn’t tell.<br/>
She felt something cool and wet pressing against her forehead, numbing the smothering heat that was closing in on her, if only for a moment. A voice rose in volume, clearer than the rest, though it was still muffled as if they were speaking from behind a cloth.<br/>
“Stay strong, Veada. It is almost over.”</p><p>The moon travelled in her queenly tread above them, the stars standing idle like servants for their mistress of light. Night owls chirped in secret places amid the branches. There was still no news. Zulius had joined Thalleous and his father as they waited, though he stood a ways off on his own. The impatience intensified until it seemed to imitate physical pain, but Thalleous had tried his hardest to keep them preoccupied. He had retrieved his own ward since they had left, the clanless child sleeping soundly beneath the wrap on his back, exhausted from a long day of hard play.<br/>
“Where is Zulius?” Thalleous inquired as he tried to locate the young Ardoni among the many heads. “He must not be far,” Quirinius said. The Sendaris split off and began to search for him.<br/>
He found the adolescent Kaltaris leaning on a rock jutting from the edge of a hill nearby, one foot placed on it as he stared out at the dense forest. He twirled his iron staff in the air lazily. The Sendaris took a step towards Zulius, the child on his back shifting slightly as he walked. Zulius lifted his head at the approaching Champion and smiled a little before planting the butt of his staff into the dirt and looking back out at the hilly landscape.<br/>
“A taxing wait, is it not?” Thalleous said, coming to stand by the young Kaltaris. Zulius silently nodded, staring up at the stars as he shifted his grip on his staff.<br/>
Thalleous frowned. He could see that something was weighing on Zulius. “What is on your mind, Zulius?” the Champion asked. The adolescent shrugged, running his finger along one of the staff’s thin blades.<br/>
“Many things,” Zulius answered.<br/>
The Sendaris stood next to him. “Anything in particular?” Thalleous pushed a little farther.<br/>
Zulius’ lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes shifting downwards to his feet. “I was second-born to my family,” he began. “My mother and father’s first son perished before I arrived. He wouldn’t have been any older than him.” Zulius gestured toward the child on Thalleous’ back before continuing.<br/>
“I watched each of my brothers fall in their turns. Some of them… didn’t even live to see the world for one fleeting moment. We buried them, one by one, and yet still I remained.” The young Kaltaris sniffed and wiped a tear from his eye, then continued. “I pray that this one may last longer. I-I do not bring this upon Mother or Father—it would hurt them too much—but I have wished for a sibling for years, Ky’Thalleous. But... the more that we lose, the harder it is to hope.”<br/>
Thalleous placed a hand on Zulius’ shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. “You are a brave young Ardoni, Zulius, and you have seen many things. For such young eyes to witness so much death is a cruel curse.” The Sendaris sighed. “But, this can be taken as a blessing too, if you choose to see it as such. Your experiences have rendered you wise beyond your years, Zulius. I am sure you will find the good in them, hopefully sooner rather than later.”<br/>
A cry split the air. All heads turned to the sound, and Thalleous saw a faint hope surge in Zulius’ eyes. The sound had come from inside the cave. Every Kaltaris eye widened as a figure came into view.<br/>
Corinna, being the eldest of the females, brought out the newest-born. The baby’s tiny limbs flailed in all directions as if reaching for something just out of sight. Its lungs were strong, judging by the loud cries it made. Ardoni, both young and old, came forward to touch the newborn, even just for a fleeting moment, their fingers brushing the baby’s incredibly soft, pale-grey skin.<br/>
Thalleous frowned as he noticed something odd. “It does not shine, the child,” he said, his tone bleeding concern. He was right. There were not even any markings. Even an Ardoni frozen in death would have had darkened markings. This child lacked any.<br/>
Quirinius looked at the Sendaris, an amused expression on his face. “You do not know?” he asked through a smile that hardly contained the sheer warmth of joy spreading rapidly in his chest like wildfire. “This is how all Ardoni begin.”<br/>
For a moment, Thalleous felt embarrassed. He was a Champion. He was only acquainted with the taking of life, not the giving of it.<br/>
Corinna continued to walk forward, obscured by the trees’ shadows, light of both moon and star shrouded from her. The baby’s fist tangled in the elder’s long hair. A few steps further, and Thalleous realized that she was heading towards Quirinius. The Kaltaris steeled himself, standing up straight as emotion rolled away.<br/>
“A daughter, Ky’Quirinius,” Corinna informed him, smiling warmly as she reached him. She held out the newborn to the father, and Quirinius took her squirming form, his arms gently wrapping around her. Calming her, sheltering her, protecting her. The tiny Ardoni’s cries were quieter now, small fingers curled into fists as she stretched out to the world.<br/>
Corinna gestured at the open clearing behind Quirinius. “Lead her into the starlight,” she whispered. “Our loved ones will lend her the strength she lacks.” Quirinius nodded and slowly turned, walking through more of the Kaltaris crowd that had gathered around the newborn. A sea of green, parted by a new life. A younger female stepped out from behind Corinna, opening her mouth to sing. It was a haunting melody, filled with the notes of joy and emotion. It imparted a unique message to each soul present, but simultaneously one of love, of life, of calling.<br/>
The baby’s father stopped and waited in the shadows for a moment, closing his eyes, breathing in, out. The rest of the clan stayed silent all the while. Then, Quirinius opened his eyes and laid his hand on his daughter, feeling the strong and rapid beat of her heart as she fidgeted, almost anxious to move. He smiled, tears filling his green eyes. He took a step into the clearing.<br/>
It took a moment, but all the Kaltaris witnessed it in their turn. Markings lit on the small Ardoni, a rapidly-spreading glow as she seemed to soak in the cold light of the stars, manifesting a jade-green. Quirinius lifted his hand away, leaving an imprint of it on the baby’s front but for a moment, before the rest of her markings appeared, connecting with the others.<br/>
He turned around to face his clan, the newborn shining brightly now. The First Glow was complete.<br/>
The silence spoke for itself. All savored the moment until there was movement again. The son stepped towards his father expectantly.<br/>
Quirinius turned to Zulius and held out his baby sister to the adolescent. Zulius took her, beaming. Her markings matched his, and that realization alone made his heart flutter with joy. He let the newborn grasp his finger, leaning forward and kissing her forehead lovingly. The singing girl ended the melody and broke for breath, smiling as father and son celebrated in hopeful silence together.<br/>
Quirinius looked up at Corinna, suddenly remembering. “Veada…?”<br/>
“She is well,” Corinna said. Quirinius sagged in relief. “You may take the little one back and see her in a few moments.”<br/>
The Kaltaris nodded in response, looking back down at his daughter as she tried to open her eyes. The light was dim, but her pupils still crossed. Zulius laughed slightly at her, squeezing her tiny hand in his palm. “Aren’t you beautiful?” he whispered, beaming at his baby sister.<br/>
After a few long minutes, the two returned to the birthing cave with the infant in arms, to see to its mother. Veada was propped up against the wall, laying on a thin bedroll. Dark circles lined her eyes, her muscles lax in exhaustion, but her face seemed to radiate with a barely-hidden joy. Either pale or glowing, her complexion seemed to illuminate.<br/>
Quirinius took his place beside her, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. Thalleous could not hear the words he whispered to her from his place beside the cave’s entrance, but her smile revealed the intentions of his words.<br/>
Zulius walked towards her with his sister in arms, reuniting mother with daughter. He met her with a caring smile, gazing in awe as Veada rocked the newborn gently, the little Ardoni falling silent and still in her mother’s arms.<br/>
From the side, Thalleous smiled as he watched the completed family. But the expression faded before long. Something else had entered his mind.<br/>
The Champion looked around at the community. It was loving. It cherished each individual with earnesty, never wishing to be served in return. It was healthy and wonderful and everything that the child would need to grow and prosper…<br/>
But it would not be his.<br/>
It would never be his.<br/>
Silus would return to Thalleous with unfortunate news early the next morning. He had been unable to find any families available to take the clanless child. The Sendaris had figured that was the case. Another unsuccessful journey, with no result. A home had still not been found for him.<br/>
Surprisingly, when he told Quirinius about the predicament as soon as was possible—he didn’t want to interrupt the moment of welcoming another addition to their family, after all—the Kaltaris took it in placid silence. Thalleous quickly made plans to venture out once again, and within a day, after the naming ceremony of the little girl, the Champion and his ward were ready to head off.<br/>
The family came to see them off early in the morning, before the sun had risen and few Kaltaris of their village had awoken. Veada stood back at the entrance, having been told by Quirinius to take her time in her recovery, a sleeping Arena in her arms—that was what they had named their daughter. Thalleous found it quite fitting.<br/>
Quirinius and Zulius, on the other hand, had come to say goodbye at the foot of the path, packing Ariadne with enough food and supplies to last the two their entire journey to Mendoria. Veada had ensured it, fretting about the both of them “needing sufficient sustenance”, especially the younger one. It was clear she was not the most avid supporter of Thalleous’ parenting methods.<br/>
The clanless child, who was awake and alert, sat up straight in the Champion’s arms, gazing longingly at the newborn.<br/>
“We wish you and the child safe travels, Thalleous,” Quirinius began. “We will pray that you will find him a loving home soon.”<br/>
Thalleous nodded his head. “Thank you, Quirinius. Your reliability is akin to a brother’s. I will not forget your kindness.”<br/>
The other smiled. “You do not walk alone on this journey, Thalleous.”<br/>
The Sendaris’ smile faded. His friend meant well, but he knew that Quirinius was wrong. He would always walk alone.<br/>
The child in Thalleous’ arms suddenly began to fuss. His small cries seemed agitated and impatient. Thalleous looked down at him, frowning. “What do you need, young one?”<br/>
With outstretched arms, the clanless Ardoni clenched and unclenched his small fingers in the direction of Veada and Arena. Thalleous said nothing, making his way towards the two, holding onto the child in his arms tightly so as not to let him fall.<br/>
The young Ardoni placed a hand on Arena’s small form none too gently, earning a small gasp from Thalleous. However, Veada only chuckled, freeing one hand to grasp the clanless’ arm, guiding him in stroking the blanket covering Arena. The child let out a soft giggle as he watched the smaller Kaltaris sleep.<br/>
Without warning, Arena let out a tiny sneeze. The clanless child jerked his hand back to his chest, startled. The others only laughed at the reaction, further confusing the child as he looked between them with bright white eyes.<br/>
Thalleous gave Veada one last smile and turned back to the father and son, though the child’s eyes remained fixed on Arena. “Fare you all well,” he proclaimed. “Take care of yourselves.” He spoke to Zulius one last time, gripping the adolescent’s shoulder. “Enjoy the time you have with your new sister, Zulius.”<br/>
Zulius nodded. The young Kaltaris himself had even considered his own duties to his mother and his younger sibling. When Quirinius had handed him his sister the night she had been born, his heart had been overwhelmed by a sensation that he simply couldn’t fathom. It had begun as a small burn, and the fire only seemed to rage stronger as the days passed. All he could make of it, from his purest of discernments, was an urge and a zeal to protect her, no matter the cost of himself. He knew that, if anyone ever tried to hurt his little Arena, he wouldn’t think twice before putting himself between her and the attacker. He wouldn’t even bother to attempt to understand the rest of that tugging feeling in his chest.<br/>
“Thank you, Ky’Thalleous,” he whispered, gripping the older Ardoni in a tight hug. “For everything.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>HAPPY BELATED CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Arise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter 11 music: Steve Jablonsky- “First Transmission”, Battleship.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite the ravenous ragings of evil, good will arise out of it.</p><p>	Fire. He had always enjoyed the fire. Not for its warmth, not for its fleeting comfort, but for its unpredictability, its innate ability to decimate forests with a simple, adequate push of wind. He strived to be like the fire. Untamable, raw, powerful. Even more so, if it were possible. Nothing was impossible for him.<br/>
The Voltaris was well-concealed within the shadows of the mountain, roosting among the dying branches of a pine tree, the cold wind bouncing off his rough, armor-tough skin. His long horns stood jagged behind his head like the antlers of an elk, his dark hair slick and flat against his head. His markings were as dark as death, the smallest bits of red flickering, the only hint of life in his cold veins. They spread across his chest and legs like dripping black blood. His eyes were sunken and small, made all the smaller as he squinted, the darkness unfurling around him like the tremendous wings of a vulture, preparing to circle its prey. He carried a single curved knife at his side, his preferred weapon of choice.<br/>
His accomplice crouched but an arm’s length away, clinging to a separate branch. A younger clan brother, his markings much brighter and bolder in color. His horns curved around, nearly meeting in the back of his head before cutting off short, edges flat. Fair in face, lean in build. His only imperfection was a jagged scar that ran clean down the side of his jaw, cleaving his left ear. The old injury had rendered him deaf on one side. He was no less honed in his senses as any other, however.<br/>
“Humans.” The very word rang like a curse on the first Voltaris’ lips. His eyes were fixed on the village tucked between the fissures, their lanterns sparkling like the heavens come to earth.<br/>
“Yes,” the other confirmed.<br/>
“We ought to wring every flimsy human neck here for aiding him.”<br/>
“Restraint, Riorden,” Ruhan countered. “It is that very same thinking that led to our clan’s fall.”<br/>
“And are we not granted such thought?” Riorden growled, turning to the other.<br/>
Ruhan shook his head. “It is what we do with such thought that counts.”<br/>
“And I… intend to follow through.” The dark Voltaris leapt from the tree, landing in the padded soil. Ruhan sighed and reluctantly followed. They landed in the midst of a half dozen of their brethren, all armed with swords, thirsty for blood. He rallied them, taking deliberate steps towards the settlement.<br/>
As they silently snuck through the village, traveling its dirt paths, one signaled to their leader, singling out a house. He nodded, his clan brothers surrounding the house in seconds. They avoided any hint of suspicion by entering through the windows and various other openings.<br/>
Riorden stood over the man’s bed, tilting his knife, its tip centering on a narrow vein in the man’s neck. The human’s eyes flew open, fixing on the Voltaris with almost tangible fear. He was only able to see the dim light of Riorden’s dark red markings, but he recognized the frame of an Ardoni enough.<br/>
“Don’t say a word, or I’ll slit your throat,” the Voltaris hissed. He had no interest in formalities. The human complied, pressing his lips into a thin line, though his frame still quivered in fright, a chill traveling up his arms and standing his hairs on edge.<br/>
“Get up.”<br/>
The man obeyed quickly, pushing himself out from underneath the blankets, purposefully avoiding the blade at his throat. As soon as his bare feet touched the ground, panic descended. With a nod from their leader, two Voltaris wrenched the man’s arms behind his back, pinning him against a dresser. The human winced as the small of his back struck against the blunt edge of the furniture.<br/>
Riorden trained his knife on his victim, locking him in a fierce gaze. He was met with timidity and meekness. Good, he thought. He relished in the fear that poured off the human in waves.<br/>
“I see this has already interrupted your routine, so let me not mince words. You helped a Sendaris the other night, as my scouts have informed me.”<br/>
Baruk swallowed, his throat dry, struggling weakly against the grip of the Ardoni on either side of him. They didn’t budge an inch, much to his dismay. His ragged brown hair fell in front of his tired yet wide eyes. He reminded Riorden of a cornered dog, its tail tucked between its legs. Pathetic.<br/>
“All I have are a few questions I expect to be answered. For what reason did he stop here, did he give you anything, and where was he going?”<br/>
The human shivered as a dozen red eyes centered on him. “Y-you lost me…”<br/>
Riorden curled his fist, resisting the urge to strike out at the man. “Thalleous Sendaris came to your home, did he not?”<br/>
He jolted at the name. Baruk thought about how he would respond. He reasoned it was probably in his best interest to answer this Ardoni truthfully. “Yes…”<br/>
“Did he carry an artifact with him?”<br/>
“He… he had a child with him…”<br/>
Riorden tutted, his tone disappointed. “There, now you seem to have lost me again.” He turned away to look out the room’s upper window, curtains blowing in the breeze, the stars veiled by dark clouds promising a touch of rain. “I am fully aware of the boy’s existence. I do not seek the child you mention. He bears no importance to me. I seek something of far greater value.” The leader turned back to his victim, wicked intent pounding in his veins. “Have you ever happened to gaze upon a beacon?”<br/>
The human could not find the time to answer before the Voltaris was speaking again. “A flashing brilliance, the sparkle of a million stars concentrated within a ray of beauty. Capable of transporting passersby to destinations far beyond their wildest imaginations, surpassing great distances in a moment’s time.”<br/>
“I… saw one once,” Baruk squeaked. Riorden tilted his head in the direction of the meager words. “When m’ brother and I were naught but kids. The Oakendale beacon. Waited for our father as he traveled to Hailstone an’ back.”<br/>
The Voltaris smiled. “That’s right.” He turned, locking his eyes with the human’s. “Did your lacking education fail to teach you of the source of a beacon?”<br/>
“I’m just a healer,” the man whimpered. “Never found my way around cities much. But m’ mum told us they were powered by Nether magic.”<br/>
“One piece of a larger puzzle,” Riorden said. “Rather, they are powered by Nether stars.” A strange glow gleamed in the Voltaris’ eyes, and Baruk shifted on his feet. Something—or perhaps everything—about this Voltaris set his nerves on edge. “Born of Withers. Ghastly creatures, you’d drop dead at the sight of one of ‘em.” The mockery earned a few snickers from across the room.<br/>
“Few of such stars are left, the only remaining ones having survived from the era of the War of our time.” Riorden gestured at his fellow clan brothers. “Yet, in the hands of choice people in this world…” He leaned towards the human, his lips curled in a snarl, baring his sharp teeth. His dark pupils dilated, nearly swallowed by the blacks of his eyes. He looked deranged, unnatural. “... very dangerous do they become.”<br/>
Baruk seemed to understand where this was going and raised his voice just enough to be heard clearly. “I… I didn’t see ‘im carry any such thing.”<br/>
“No?” Riorden pressed his knife against the man’s chin, his eyes cloudy with suspicion. “Perhaps you need a reminder, eh?”<br/>
The human let out a soft whimper, but beyond that, not a single word.<br/>
“Aren’t you the quiet one…” The Voltaris flashed a malicious grin, staring intently at the man. He tightened his grip on the knife and slowly dragged its tip down the man’s chest, leaving a shallow slash in his flesh, the shirt stained with fresh blood. Baruk squirmed like a small child trying to avoid a punishment, his muscles locking as he released a cry of pain. The two Ardoni at his sides clamped their iron fists over his arms.<br/>
Riorden felt his mouth water in sick anticipation, retracting the knife, its tip red with blood. His eyes remained fixed on it as it dripped down the blade. “Did you know that in the ancient days, humans classified Ardoni as predatory animals?”<br/>
The Voltaris pinched the blade between two fingers and slid them across its blunt edge before retracting them, the blood of the human painting his fingertips scarlet. “They considered us no greater than the very meat they hunted. Likened to pests feeding off their livestock. Known for our ‘thirst for fresh blood. “I do enjoy a good history book.”<br/>
Then, the Voltaris did something Baruk would never have seen coming. He feasted on that very blood, savoring the lingering taste of it in his mouth. The human wondered just how strange Ardoni really were. But this was beyond that.<br/>
The captor licked his lips. “Let us try this again, shall we?” Riorden said, his tone sickly sweet, dripping with poisoned honey. “And do go on resisting for as long as you wish.”<br/>
“I… I don’t know!” Baruk exclaimed through receding pain. “He never e’en mentioned a Nether star. All I did was help out the little one, he had a cough!”<br/>
His face pressed closer to the human’s. Baruk grimaced at the hot, rancid breath of his own blood, his stomach rolling in his body. The Voltaris appeared vexed, his lips curling in annoyance. “And where was he going?” Riorden purred.<br/>
“Please, I-I don’t know anythin’! He never told me where he was goin’! There was just some… some weird messenger raven or somethin’ like that, come perch on my sill. He gave it a letter and sent it off, I don’t know where…”<br/>
“I believe you,” Riorden cut him off.<br/>
And he thrust his knife into the human’s chest.<br/>
Baruk would have cried out had it not been for the sheer shock of the scrape of metal chafing inside him. He choked as he tried to breathe, his lungs failing him. The red eyes remained fixed on him, slowly fading from his vision. Riorden withdrew his knife with a sick twist, blood flooding from the human’s chest like a geyser. The Voltaris waited.<br/>
And waited.<br/>
And waited...<br/>
The healer released his last breath as they released him, and he dropped to the floor, limp and pale. The blood crept across the floorboards and seeped between the cracks, reaching a Voltaris’ toes. He was the youngest, a shimmering Ardoni, his horns just barely curving behind his ears, markings like a thousand teardrops, weeping a pinkish-red that would barely have passed him as a Voltaris. Yet here he was. He shuddered as the warm fluid of the human’s robbed life stained his grey skin red.<br/>
Riorden wiped the blade clean upon the bed and left the room without a word. Mixed glances followed him out, some in acceptance of the murder, others in denial of it but mute enough to not speak up.<br/>
The minutes passed in a frenzy after the incident. Riorden ordered the house to be set on fire to set their tracks ablaze. When they executed it, the sparks caught in the wind and unwittingly spread to several of the village’s other houses. Before any woke to the smoke and flames, the party of Voltaris had vanished, wreaking havoc upon all the humans.<br/>
Riorden looked on from a safe distance away. The fire reflected in his eyes lit them fiercer than his own natural brilliance.<br/>
Ruhan, at his leader’s side, gestured to the fire. “This is not what we came for, Riorden,” he said.<br/>
“Much is paid for in war.”<br/>
“There is more to the Sendaris that we are not seeing. He wouldn’t have left the scene with only an infant in hand. He carries the artifact, or at least possesses knowledge of it, mark my words.”<br/>
“Your confidence precedes your caution, Ruhan,” Riorden replied, his back to the fire. “That is a crutch.”<br/>
The other could not answer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>After much careful consideration, I have decided to redact the entirety of the chapter bits regarding Claes Voltaris’ backstory out of Anew. That includes any characters affiliated with him as well (namely Arcaena Voltaris and Helvetus Mendoris). Claes will still remain a character in future chapters, but he will not play as large of a role as I previously imagined. Plot and character arcs will therefore be changed in order to accommodate to this redaction. I am sorry for the inconvenience that this causes the story, but I refuse to let anyone else be hurt by my writing. If any of you are at all interested in speaking to me in DMs about Claes’ original role, just let me know. But I will not disclose it within a public setting, especially in the chapters. Thank you so much for being understanding! Love you all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Senseless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter music: "Dark Night" by Philip Sheppard.</p><p>Words are riddled with emotion. Actions are senseless and raw, unadulterated and pure. Which of the two show love the more?</p><p>“Ahh, buh.” The clanless Ardoni squealed, the warm light of the fire framing his round face, waving his hands in the air, making tiny circles as he blew his lips at the Sendaris.<br/>Thalleous leaned down towards the child, elbows resting on his knees. “What is it?”<br/>“Uhh,” the child grunted, reaching up to tug at the elder’s arm. His eyes were fixed on the fire-roasted fish that the Champion held in his hand.<br/>“You have already had your fill, young one,” Thalleous reminded the small Ardoni, but the other continued to fuss and babble, opening his mouth. Thalleous shook his head with a smile and tore off a boneless bit of his own piece, handing it to the other. “Very well.” He watched as the child stuffed the fish into his mouth, content. He finished his own and leaned back, exhaling as he gazed around at the dark forest around them.<br/>“Thalleous Sendaris, sir?”<br/>The high voice startled the elder. Thalleous turned to see a bright bird perched upon a branch in the dense forest, staring down at the both of them. A messenger. Now this was more like it. “Ah,” he audibly recognized, standing.<br/>“It is good to see you, Thalleous,” the bird continued, hopping from the branch to a rock closer to the Champion’s eye level. “How are you faring?”<br/>“Faring just fine, Merlin. No doubt my brother sent you.”<br/>“But of course,” Merlin replied. “I am his most trusted emissary, after all. He and I go way back. Always friendly memories with that man.”<br/>“Doesn’t seem far-fetched to hear that my brother still turns to animals for social interaction…”<br/>“Am I detecting sarcasm, sir?”<br/>Thalleous growled under his breath, ignoring the desire to rub at his eyes. “Oh, brother,” he spoke to the skies. “Why must you torment me so?”<br/>“...never would’ve thought you to still be thriving had not Craban delivered your letter,” he caught Merlin say. The messenger must have run on a tangent. “Not the shrewdest of chaps, Craban is—I never trusted ravens much—but he is reliable.”<br/>“I would rather skip the pleasantries, Merlin,” he countered with a disinterested tone that easily dismissed the bird’s trivial comments and gossip. “What does my brother have to say to me?”<br/>“Well, sir, that is a rather difficult question to answer, considering several of my master’s choice words I would rather refrain from disclosing.”<br/>Thalleous scoffed. “Then disclose a summary, if you must.”<br/>The bird ruffled his feathers, clearing his throat—sounding half between a squawk and a cough—in a manner of formality, and began. “In response to your plea, my master Galleous Sendaris promises he will search for families who might take this child in and that he will send me to you once more if an opportunity arises.”<br/>“And will he relay such an opportunity to me? Or does he merely say such?”<br/>“That I cannot answer, sir.”<br/>Thalleous let out a breath. At least the other had been somewhat cooperative, finding a family for the child in Ataraxia was more than a decent idea. He didn’t wish to rely on Galleous too much for this favor, but he could not deny his brother’s connections. If anyone would be able to take the child in the Hidden City, he would know about it. “Did he say anything else?”<br/>“In fact, he did.” The messenger outstretched a lean talon in the Champion’s direction, a roll of paper clutched between his claws. “He wished for me to give you this. I have no knowledge of what is inside. I assumed that they are meant for your eyes alone.”<br/>Thalleous took the scroll from the bird and unraveled it, the parchment thin and frail between his worn fingers. The sprawling handwriting betrayed that the author had written it in a rush, bits of dark ink messily curling the letters in unruly splotches. He didn’t have much of a problem reading it, however, he had encountered this handwriting numerous times before. Yet still, all he could hear was his own voice speaking the written words to him, for their voices were one and the same. Brothers, of one blood. From the page to his heart, it crossed boundaries and shattered his thoughts, the emotions frothing inside him.<br/>You’re a fool, Thalleous, it read. To think you could come to me on behalf of yourself when you have no one else to turn to.<br/>The bitterness that gnawed inside him at the sight of the words did not surprise him. Of course, he had not expected words of warmth in his brother, not after their latest encounter. No one would expect it when the Champion hadn’t even had the courtesy to remain in Ataraxia to come to terms with how much damage he had dealt the other. That was cause enough for resentment of him to fester within his brother.<br/>Yet Thalleous couldn’t help but imagine that there was more to their lack of affinity with one another than simply a one-time altercation, even if their fight had admittedly ended horribly. Galleous had always disapproved of his choices in life, how he seemed to flit from one place to another like a bird with broken legs, not bothering to settle down for fear of unavoidable pain catching him unaware one day. A fateful day that would end in tragedy as predators descended upon him and took all chance at a life away once again. Even a creature as meek as a bird followed its instinct to survive. Only the dead showed weakness.<br/>He had never approved of the other’s choices either, for the man was his only surviving brother—whom he both loved and despised. This was the same brother who chose to remain in hiding, the same brother who defended his own inner conflicts about Songs yet was a hypocrite as he had applauded their use a century before, the same brother who had never held anyone close, had nothing and no one to lose, and therefore... no one to avenge. They were opposites in every sense of the word.<br/>He pushed his thoughts aside and skimmed the rest of the letter. He did not find it worthwhile to dwell on the sentiments that his brother harbored towards him. He would not allow him any more time of his than was required. Yet I understand this child has no home… His eyes brushed farther down the page. ...send me word if you find him a suitable place to call home, and I will do the same if I find one here… A little farther.<br/>His eyes twitched as the handwriting seemed to grow more sincere and deliberate, as if it reflected Galleous’ true thoughts and words… as if he had begun to care once more about their relationship that was already hanging on a thread as it was. Should you ever find yourself in Ataraxia…<br/>Too far. He folded the letter at its creases. There was no need to continue reading. The child mattered now, nothing else.<br/>“You may return now, Merlin,” he spoke after he realized that the bird still sat upon the rock.<br/>“I would, sir, but… I have remained to be compensated for my efforts.”<br/>“Do I look like I am able to compensate?” Thalleous challenged with a slightly raised eyebrow.<br/>The winged creature appeared flustered as he flapped his wings, feathers ruffling. “N-No, sir. Thank you anyway. I shall be off.” And without so much as a farewell, he took off into the night sky once more.<br/>Good riddance. The Sendaris huffed as the messenger flew above the tips of the trees and disappeared. At least Galleous was capable of being kind enough to send word, he couldn’t say he had expected the other to do as much. He could only do his part from now on and hope that his brother would do his.<br/>	Thalleous turned back to the dark horizon, craning his neck to see above the trees. The sun had only set some short time before. The forest was dark, but the villages lay just ahead on the road. It was perhaps in their best interest to make the final sprint now rather than wait and rest for the night when they were already so close. He didn’t want to exhaust the clanless Ardoni, but he figured the little one could last a little while longer.<br/>	Turning back, he squinted through the firelight and gazed at the other. The child had finished his meal and sat complacently in the dirt, staring up at him. “Very well. It is time to reembark, young one.”<br/>The child looked up at his ward, his lip sticking out slightly in a pouting gesture. He made a questioning sound, and Thalleous shook his head. “We still have a ways to go.”<br/>The Champion lifted the child into his arms, and he made no more noise. His small arms instead reached curiously up towards Thalleous’ face and gripped his nose, touching his cheeks and smearing grease on them. The Sendaris felt his heart soften and bubble with a strange warmth and allowed himself to smile, quickly wrapping the boy in the cloth once more for warmth and maneuvering him onto his back.<br/>The child grunted, reaching out to grip one of Thalleous’ long, glowing horns from behind. His face drew close to the end of it, and before the Champion could stop him, he felt teeth gnawing slightly into his horn.<br/>Surprised, he twisted his head, pulling the child to his front. “What was that, little one?” he remarked. The child, his mouth unsatisfyingly empty, took to chewing on his fist instead, looking up at him with glinting eyes of mischief.<br/>Thalleous squinted. Surely the boy wasn’t still hungry, he had already eaten far more fish than Thalleous had figured was necessary for a child his age. He gently pried the child’s mouth open with a finger, sparing a glance inside. Small teeth had begun to protrude from his gums. He didn’t believe they had been there before. That must have been why he had been so vocal. He hadn’t been hungry, he had simply wanted something to chew on to distract him from the ache of the teeth coming in.<br/>“I see.” He playfully touched the boy’s nose without thinking, and the clanless Ardoni drew back as if shocked. His fist raised to rub at his nose, squeezing his eyes shut briefly before looking back up at the Sendaris.<br/>Thalleous pursed his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Ariadne trotted towards them obediently, and he set the infant down beside the fire to inspect the provisions that they had been graciously given for their journey, strapped to the horse’s back. They had already crossed the borders of Mendoria, but he didn’t want to be caught without sufficient aid to supply them for the remainder of the trek. He had a good feeling that the Mendoris would accept the child, but he couldn’t decide whether it was intuition or false hope that guided him to feel that way. He would find a home for the boy, he had to.<br/>His head tilted, and his markings’ light intensified. His hair seemed to stand on end, and he fought a cold flash. He knew this feeling: he was not alone. Thalleous looked up to see several pairs of eyes staring back at him from the darkness around him, the faintest sounds of clawed feet against decaying leaves caressing the air.<br/>Snags.<br/>He internally chastised his luck and remained where he was. He couldn’t escape one day without encountering trouble, could he?<br/>One, two, four… five… at least half a dozen. Their thick, violet pelts and dripping fangs seemed to reek of something horribly sour with a hint of sweetness, like the smell of berries. Their repugnant, glowing green eyes pinned his every move in a stalemate. And he could sense several more closing in quickly, flanking all his sides. His jaw clenched as he realized his mistake. This couldn’t end well.<br/>They had been resting in a hunting ground.<br/>The Sendaris didn’t activate his sword for the sake of caution. Such a rush of sound and light could threaten the approaching animals. He couldn’t look at the child, it would mean taking his eyes off the creatures that stared at him now. That would give them time enough to attack and leave him mauled. His sharp ears were the only way he could know for sure the infant was safe. They, however, also caught the sound of the small Ardoni’s usual babble.<br/>Thalleous didn’t move, yet his mind sprinted. Surely they would exploit the child’s presence, eliminate the strong to target the weak. Or would they simply attack first without hesitation? These were not creatures of cognitive sentience, they could not be reasoned with. Even though Thalleous had always been one to prefer the sword over a diplomatic solution, the enemies he had always pitted himself against had minds of their own to choose their next moves carefully, lest they be their last. Snags were a different form of opposition entirely.<br/>The Champion was out of his depth.<br/>As more stepped out of the darkness, he was able to get a better look at these creatures. Their snouts were flat and their ragged breaths echoed and misted in the cold air, obscuring the brightness of their shining eyes, but not by much. Their nostrils flared desperately, and their mouths hung open, revealing bleeding gums and double rows of sharp canine teeth that curved inward to effectively latch onto flesh. The bright color of their fur did not bode well for them in the dark forest, it was impossible for them to camouflage, as if nature itself had rejected them, forcing them to act upon their prey more viciously and boldly. Large, sharp ears stood high, erect atop their heads, amplifying their hearing. The manes encircling their heads were thick and almost feathery—not soft and downy, rather brittle and slick, like a bird of prey—extending down towards their front legs, which were far outdone in length and bulk by their hind legs. The force of those limbs seemed so great that to pounce on an unfortunate victim might kill the prey instantly. Bare periwinkle skin cracked and tore on their abdomens and sides, secreting something wet and awful. It must have been the cause of that rancid, sour-sweet odor. Their tails were thin and at least the length of their bodies, ending in a mass of fur.<br/>A snag nearest him snapped its jaws in his direction and Thalleous stiffened, sweeping his sword arm back at the threat. Several more took stride towards him, guttural growls erupting from deep within their maned throats, warning him. One large snag released a deafening call that left the blood in his veins frozen—one that resembled a young child screaming as they suffered a bloody fate—before the growing number of followers replied with their own terrifying screams. The soil beneath their talons crumbled as they dug their feet into the ground. Thalleous’ heart pounded harder, something animal inside him wished to be released. He had never fought his way out of a snag pack before, but there was a first time for everything.<br/>The howls morphed into energetic yips, a dozen wicked pitches bouncing between the dark trees. They became so loud that the Champion’s hearing was twisted by them. His head spun again and again in confusion, anticipating an attack from any side at any moment. Ariadne snorted and shook herself, mane flying as she stamped her hooves into the path, avoiding the greens of the snag eyes fixed on her. The child let out a cry, alarmed by the increasing volumes. <br/>The air was thick with tensity. Thalleous longed to cut through it with his sword—as if he could—so that he could breathe easier. What should he do? Make a move? Retreat? The child was in the open, unsafe. Ariadne was only a few paces away. He could attempt to mount her and fight them off atop her back. No, that would endanger her in ways that he preferred not to dwell on. And he would not leave the clanless boy to these bloodthirsty horrors.<br/>If he could find his way towards the child, he could protect him better. And then, he might have an opportunity to retreat on his steed. But once more, his legs were rooted in place by a force of fear. These animals would overwhelm him at the first sign of threat. No, he had to remain still, it was the only choice that seemed somewhat logical in this moment. Only this moment. Stay present.<br/>The moment did not last long. The largest snag drove his claws into the dirt and loosed a single ferocious cry. A flash of violet sprung towards Thalleous from his left. He flicked his wrist. The sword awoke. The enchanted ripples sparked an equal fury, and the snag let out a yelp of fear before retreating in a blur of limbs.<br/>Thalleous’ heart pounded like a drum, harkening his body to attention. His focus honed, he was ready. Another sprint came from behind, but he bent low, swiping his sword in the snag’s direction. It did not make contact but drove the creature back just enough. The Sendaris made for the fire pit.<br/>Three snags rushed at his turned back, each behind the other, claws outstretched, wide mouths open and starved for a fresh kill. Thalleous whirled around just an arm’s length away from the flames, catching one on the point of his blade, running it through, before pivoting and bringing his fist down upon another’s exposed back with an audible crunch. The adrenaline had enhanced his strength, as the second snag let out a pained yelp. It stumbled away but the first remained alive, weak and flailing in its impaled state. Thalleous drew the blade out of the creature’s abdomen, just in time to slash at the third oncoming. It caught the snag in the snout, blood flying, forcing another retreat.<br/>He sidestepped the dying snag at his feet and heard the child crying. He spared a quick glance over his shoulder at the clanless, still sitting on the ground... at the moment, unharmed. His chest twisted at the meek and frightened sound, but he stopped the thought. The boy’s safety was first, his peace of mind would come after.<br/>He turned back towards the pack, hair in his face. By the looks of it, twice the number had taken the place of the casualties. The leader still stared at him with lush, green orbs, and the Champion did not look away. Not until more came, attracted like undead to rotting flesh.<br/>Acting within a spare moment, Thalleous gripped the end of a lit branch from within the fire and held it high for the animals to see. The torchlight bathed the trees above, their silhouettes laced with fiery sunset orange. He brought the branch down towards the approaching snags, startling them. An unfortunately-courageous individual had ventured too close, and its fur was lit in fire. It screamed in pain and terror, but retreated into the forest and rolled in the grass, sparks flying, over and over, frantically, until the fire had been put out. Thalleous cursed. These creatures were far more intelligent than he’d cared to give them credit for.<br/>Yet another snag launched itself towards the Champion from an elevated cropping, but he sidestepped and managed a swipe with his sword, catching in its side, the slick hide torn open. It continued on its trajectory and collapsed with a whump to the ground, its head striking against a boulder and bringing the rest of its limp form to a full stop. Thalleous grit his teeth, whirling around to strike out at another that had made itself known with its awful cry. It jumped back to avoid the blade, baring its teeth, until it snapped and clamped its jaws around the torch, sending it flying away.<br/>A scream. THE CHILD! The world stopped. He turned and, in an instant, threw his only weapon at the violet blur that was looming over the frightened child. The sword did not meet its mark, however, yet slid along the ground too close to the clanless for Thalleous’ liking. The child lay curled up in the dirt, wailing at the snag that stood over him, mouth wide, rancid saliva dribbling on the young Ardoni’s face. Thalleous let out a cry and lunged towards the attacker, the roar of Mobilium humming about him, yet he had not called upon the Song to aid him. All he could recognize was how he tackled the snag away from the boy, pinning it to the dirt and ignoring the pain at the splitting skin of his knuckles as he struck the snag again and again. Aggressium began to spark in his chest, heating his lungs. His breath was fire, and he saw red, red, and more red, until the creature was nothing but a mess of flesh and fur beneath him.<br/>There was no time to stop and think. He pushed himself to his feet, paling grey skin contrasted with the snag’s stark crimson blood stained across his arms and face. He reached for his fallen weapon and gripped the hilt with slick hands, this time taking an offensive by rushing the remaining members. The Sendaris growled audibly, wild eyes skirting across the ranks of snags, locking with the numerous frightened pairs of green opticals. The leader stamped the ground and finally made a move, its claws driving like stakes into the worn path as it landed, leaping from its throne of stone, letting out a deep cry. The child behind him squealed in fright as the oversized snag attacked, and Thalleous thrust himself between them.<br/>But then, with no warning, Ariadne whinnied and kicked out at the creature, frightened but loyal. Thalleous backed away, nearly tripping over his legs, and he realized just how equally matched the horse was in size. The snag lunged out of a crouched and cautious position, going for the other’s neck. Ariadne bucked and screamed, blood staining the horse’s hide. Thalleous’ heart sank. Though equal in size, in bloodlust, she was far outmatched.<br/>It wasn’t until several more snags began to attack his companion that the Champion broke out of his icy state. He rushed to the horse’s side, ever the protector, cutting down the coming predators. Meanwhile, Ariadne fought her own battle, bucking away from her enemy, mane and tail flying. Her legs stumbled against the rocky ground, hair matted with blood. Thalleous saw, just before all broke loose.<br/>A sudden pressure clung to his leg, followed by sharp pain shooting up his body. His heel dug into the ground to right himself, but the loss of balance brought him to the ground with a thud. He cried out for the agony of the rows of vicious serrated incisors seemingly tearing into his leg bone, tugging for submission, coating his nerves in heat and spotting his vision with blinding stars. He sucked a breath into his knocked lungs, attempting to kick out at the snag clinging to his leg.<br/>Another set of sharp teeth dug into his sword arm, and his fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword, refusing to give in. More were descending, pinning him against the ground, their howls and screams leaving his blood pounding in his head. They were all over him, pulling him apart, a meal to be devoured shortly.<br/>He did not wait or even think to act. Thalleous stretched his arms out as far as he could and brought them down, fists pumping against the ground as he heard himself cry out. Veins of scarlet energy snaked through the soil, and a gust of electric-hot air chased after them. The sound of a foostep of thunder shook the earth. The snags were flung back and into the air, releasing him. They cried and yipped before they hit the ground, frightened and injured by the Aggressium.<br/>His voice had given out from the yell, and he forced himself to inhale. He smelled and tasted blood, his or otherwise. Ears ringing, his vision swam in vicious, vibrant color. Yet this was no place to rest. He rolled over and onto his hands and knees, pressing his forehead into the dirt in some hasty attempt to clear his pounding thoughts. He forced his eyes open, his vision flickering faintly with his markings. He caught sight of the child, now on his side with his back turned away, whimpering softly. His mind raced at the thought that his Song outburst had hurt the infant, and, without waiting, limped to his feet and scooped the boy up.<br/>He seemed to fit so securely in the crook of Thalleous’ arm, the poor child turning inwards from the fear. Thalleous ignored the immense pain that shot through his leg, the agonizing weight of his greatsword held by his injured arm, one purpose ringing clear and true. Protect the child.<br/>He waved his sword at the remaining snags, whistling between his teeth all the while. Ariadne stumbled towards him at a frantic speed, and he steeled himself before pulling himself atop the horse’s back, clinging tight to the child with one hand and digging in Ariadne’s mane with the other. Go, he urged her swiftly. He did not need to say the word for her to hear it.<br/>The mare suddenly bucked and screamed as the snags rushed at her, claws digging into her front and sides. The child screamed, and Thalleous swayed, swearing as his vision swam. He whistled again, digging his heels into Ariadne, and she managed to break free with a final toss of her head. At the prompting, she galloped forward. The snags were either forced to leap out of the way or risk getting trampled.<br/>The horse carried her riders through the forest, ignoring the roads to prioritize a desperate, more direct approach through the brush. Thalleous was jostled as he felt her stumble again and again. He curled his screaming body around the wailing infant and leaned against Ariadne’s neck, hoping that his faithful companion would not fall and bring them all to the ground. He could not relax as the snags’ howls faded behind them, for they still hung in his ears, telling tales of coming death. Surely they were following close behind, about to tear them apart.<br/>Ariadne’s gait slowed and nearly stopped entirely, her breath heaving from her nostrils, a glossy layer of sweat sheening upon her hide. Her mouth foamed, and her eyes threatened to roll back into her head. The Sendaris took a moment to gather his strength before tilting his head up and opening his eyes, barely able to see through his wind-blown hair. His head felt light at the clouded sight before him, blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision.<br/>He could make out torches. Shades of lavender fields and amethyst gems. A Mendoris village.<br/>Relief built within him. They had escaped the fire.<br/>Thalleous slung his leg over the horse’s back and dropped onto the tall grass that faintly tickled his legs. He nearly fell over into it, his body even unconsciously twisted, the arm cradling the child turned away from the ground so he would not fall on him, but by some miracle, his feet remained planted under him. He didn’t know which would hurt worse: leaning upon his injured leg, or accidentally scaring and harming the clanless child. He frantically pressed the boy firm against his collar, baring his teeth at the disheartening sound of his startled mewls. He tried to speak in hushed words to calm him, but no words would come. They had narrowly escaped yet another haunting encounter with danger, and his heart nearly collapsed as he took a step forward. They were alive.<br/>He nearly fell another time, but he forced himself to take another step, another, another. The Sendaris overlooked the village, its safety calling to him and to the child. He let out a wordless triumphant cry. They had arrived.<br/>A weak whinny pulled him away from the small victory. Thalleous turned and watched as Ariadne lowered herself to the ground, the stripes in her sides painting the grass in red. With the infant still whimpering in his arms, he rushed to her side, letting out a gasp of pain as he fell to his knees before her.<br/>Her sides shuddered as her failing lungs fought to remain functional, but she was losing more air than she was gaining. The wounds were deep, severe, bleeding fervently. The monsters had mauled his companion. He placed a shaking hand on her jaw, her face relaxing as he stroked her neck.<br/>He solemnly gazed into her glossy eyes, his chest pounding with something long lost to him… heartbreak. She was dying, and he was powerless to stop it. The jaws of death would soon claim another, and he would be left alone again to combat it with no hope for victory. It seemed he would always be at odds with mortality, and it would always hold power over him.<br/>A hand fell on his shoulder, voices crowded him. There were figures—Ardoni—blocking his way, kneeling by Ariadne’s side. His fingers loosened around his sword and his guard dropped. The Mendoris. They must have spotted the group and rushed to help. His tunnel vision could not be broken, their words of concern fell on deaf ears. Thalleous rose and fell with labored breath. He felt as if he were drifting among the clouds.<br/>Ariadne had carried them out of danger at the expense of herself. It was because of her that he and the child were alive and not the snags’ next meal. His mind swam with memories of her over the past many years. He had entrusted his life to her many times before, and she always followed through. And now, she might die because of his foolish decisions. Her wounds were far too dire for him to allow himself hope.<br/>Thalleous had never been one for placing faith in mere cold lights before, but one prayer flew to the stars that night from his heart.<br/>If you are there, I beg of you, spare her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter’s really been a long time coming, and I apologize sincerely for that. I suppose I can pin the blame partially on some developing burnout, partially on avoidance, and partially on I’ve just been too busy with thinking about school and other projects to actually sit down and write. What made it harder was that usually I have a small amount of a chapter already written before I really work on one, so I at least have something to go off of in the beginning. It wasn’t so with this one. I had to start from scratch and begin everything in my head once again. I still love this story, but things have been changing for me a lot, personally and within this story as well, how I’ve looked at it and thinking about what I’m trying to accomplish by writing it. I just suppose I would like to say that I don’t just write for the purpose of writing, I write to help my readers learn something about the world or about people or about… just something. Again, still trying to figure out what exactly I’m doing with this story and how it’s affecting my readers. Y’all are so much more important to me than this silly excuse of a story ever will be, just remember that.<br/>But I’ve ranted plenty now, I think. This chapter was definitely a break from the last (still trying to recover from that one), and I hope to get back into a rhythm again, but once again, I’m a busy college student. But I hope I can always come back to this story exuberantly because of my love for it. Wish you all the best! Take care of yourselves! &lt;3</p>
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